“Now we cannot have that, can we?” Elizabeth smiled, though the hint of anger in it was clear. Not that it wasn’t obvious that Irwyn would not be left for interrogation and execution, she just seemed to enjoy a bit of theatrics in that moment.
“No, we cannot,” Impression seemed to be on the same note with her for once. “I think we will both enjoy this, your Ladyship.”
“There is not much point in making an example with no witnesses, is there?” Irwyn half hid his discomfort.
“Even though they would kill you twice over?” Elizabeth inclined her head.
“I do not particularly enjoy needless suffering,” Irwyn shrugged.
“Yet do you hate it?” the heiress immediately shot back.
“Not too much, I suppose,” Irwyn surrendered. “But I would rather not be witness to things going too far.”
“Hmm, I acknowledge we should not waste Impression’s time overmuch,” Elizabeth slowly nodded. “But they came to this city to kill you Irwyn. Travelled here for that explicit purpose. I cannot forgive that. I will not be satisfied with just a sudden, painless death.”
“What would be enough then?” Irwyn asked, unsure what answer he wanted. What would be too much? If she demanded more than he was willing to accept would he contradict that? He was not sure himself where the line was drawn, how could he stand in its defense?
“I want them to come here, full of their arrogance, then watch it turn to ash,” she said, staring Irwyn intently in the eyes. “I want them to kneel, stripped of any hold over their Fate and realize, truly internalize, that their lives are over. That nothing they can do or say could possibly save them. I want to witness that moment of comprehension in their eyes, lock gazes as it happens… That would satisfy me.”
“I can live with that fine,” Irwyn nodded. A few moments were not too long. Arguably not even torture, certainly not physical. He was not going to argue too much leniency for assassins after his head. He would be happy as long as he did not witness too much cruelty. And that he would not be forced to confront what exactly might or might not be ‘too far’.
“Thank you,” she smiled, that intensity from just prior seemingly gone in an instant.
“They will be here soon,” Impression interrupted. “I assume you would like me to set up the scene?”
“If you would indulge me,” Elizabeth nodded.
“I would indulge much more in this case, your Ladyship,” Impression mirrored her grin. “Although for different reasons, I am also rather miffed. Here the dead men come.”
And indeed, they did. The duo had already dismissed their invisibility when they approached - or perhaps had simply forgotten to maintain it. They wore the same strange leather and colored ribbons. Immediately their eyes locked onto Elizabeth. Impression contemptuously took a spot almost in-between the two groups, forgotten in plain sight.
“We have not agreed on another person,” the Blinding made flesh frowned.
“Compulsion makes for poor deals,” Elizabeth gave them her best welcoming smile. “They have a tendency to be altered when you no longer hold all the cards.”
“And you believe that you do,” Blinding inclined his head, amused.
“This isn’t right,” Chaining frowned. “Something is…”
“Something is what?” Blinding turned to him.
“What?” Chaining said, visibly confused.
“You didn’t finish your sentence,” Blinding nodded, his eyes widening halfway through his sentence.
“Fuck!” Chaining cursed. “Soul… Soul what?”
“They are not too bad,” Impression idly commented. “The old one particularly. He can almost resist me when I am not putting my domain behind the magic.”
“Almost,” Irwyn noted as he watched the two mages trying to do whatever they could and forgetting themselves halfway through every action. They also seemed to have forgotten Irwyn and Elizabeth altogether, not a coincidence, that.
“Well, I let him notice something was wrong, that gives him a large advantage,” she nodded. “Usually, I would be done without being noticed. But that would not satisfy the Young Ladyship, not to mention I can use the practice. Restraining my domain is a… curious experience.”
“You said they have a countermeasure prepared, right?” Elizabeth inquired.
“Something from their anonymous employer,” Impression nodded, scoffing. “They don’t even know what it is, just that it protects the Soul.”
“Crush it,” Elizabeth commanded.
“It will be my pleasure,” Impression grinned. She made no gesture, yet the two mages shifted on the palm of her hand.
“The cord!” Chaining yelled. Both he and his companion were allowed to reach for their belt, withdrawing an item from their pouches - clearly spacially expanded ones. It was a wire, or perhaps more accurately, a cord. Perfectly white, just about long enough to be tied around a neck.
“Are those…?” Irwyn stared. It was familiar like in Abonisle when Dervish...
“FORGET,” Impression spoke, for the first time tangible power behind her words. Irwyn blinked. What had he been thinking about?
“Why would they have those?” Elizabeth sounded shocked. Irwyn followed her gaze to the two men holding those immaculate white cords, frozen in place. Like they fell unconscious standing upright. They were familiar, like those given to them by Dervish in the Abonisle incursion.
“I am locking them in place,” Impression was no longer smiling. “This escalates the situation.”
“Is that what I think it is?” Irwyn questioned.
“Cord Immaculate,” Elizabeth confirmed pointing.
“That sounds like trouble.”
“That, Irwyn, is a strategic resource,” she chewed on her lip. “However the two got their hands on them, heads will roll.”
“Many heads,” Impression nodded, she began walking towards the duo, a mighty frown on her face. “I am not important enough to be issued one unless it is determined they would be needed on an assignment. There is a very limited number of…”
Then the two moved. Their eyes were still glazed over, their expression did not reveal a trace of consciousness. By almost every observable metric they were still completely unconscious. More than that – they were being forced to Forget every thought or action that might possibly occur to them… And yet their limbs flashed upwards with all the speed they could muster.
“Impossible!” the Shadow blurred forwards. She was fast, superhuman. Far faster than Irwyn or Elizabeth could possibly move… but not nearly so much as Dervish for example. Not fast enough.
The two cords sunk underneath the flesh of the exposed necks they had enveloped. Then all the haze vanished from their eyes. The two conception mages looked up and this time it was clear they could see Impression as well.
“Call for…” the Shadow glanced at Elizabeth, that was all the time she had.
A river of glowing chains erupted from every direction, interwoven by blindingly brilliant radiance – all of it rushing towards them with speed faster than Irwyn’s eyes could follow. All of it was utterly crushed by a tidal wave of raw mana, coming from Impression as the Shadow retreated back towards him and Elizabeth. And Irwyn understood why, even if it took his mind a second to come to the conclusion. He and Elizabeth had used those cords back in Abonisled after all. ‘Practially immune to Soul magic,’ Dervish had called them. Apparently, it had been at the very least powerful enough to defend against the Lich who had been influencing and reading their minds.
Not much unlike Impression, really.
The chains and brilliance returned, then were obliterated by raw magic orders of magnitude above them. And yet before the last barrage even ended a new was already being summoned. Impression was still a domain mage. She possessed multitudes more raw power. And yet she was forced to fight without her element. Soul magic was not based on impacts and projectiles. It was about directly subverting or breaking the mind. Of attacking the core of a foes being and leaving it a broken husk. Without that option, all Impression was left with her superior quantity of mana.
Yet it was clear even to Irwyn she had limited experience with shaping just raw, unattuned magic. Each motion was sloppy, imprecise, and needed to overpower a hundred to one in order to crush with sheer magnitude. Her range was limited and seemed to sharply drop off mere meters away from Impression’s body along with what limited control she had. But still, the two conception mages would likely not be able to kill her, not in a reasonable amount of time anyway.
Impression was not their target.
An illusion sprinted into the fray, that of the Chainer. It was blatant to Irwyn that it was an illusion. The Light within it was far too obvious while the other mage's concept was still tangible at a safe distance. Which was why he was baffled when Impression fell for it. The Shadow overextended for just a moment, rushing forward with her incredible speed to deliver a lethal blow. It only took a fraction of a second for her to realize her mistake, but that was enough. Impression had no tricks to reverse her momentum or rapidly appear somewhere else. Even powerful Soul mages scarcely did, apparently.
The two hostile mages had moved around the circle of Impression's range with equally superhuman speed and used the opening to launch two separate attacks. They should have huddled together, Irwyn recognized all too late. Made themselves easier to defend. And yet it had only been a scarce few seconds since the battle had begun. It was perhaps the shock, the reversal of immortality into peril. Maybe the realization had not fully hit them that they were indeed in danger. Nonetheless, Irwyn wanted to curse over such a mistake.
An unstoppable barrage of blinding Light surged towards Elizabeth, except it would do far worse than blind if it connected. Meanwhile, Irwyn was accosted by a torrent of chains that were clearly binding in more ways than just physically. And Irwyn realized that Impression would not make it to both of them in time, for all they were just a few steps away from each other. With her limited control, their guardian could not project her power from far away, lest she just accidentally killed them herself through the sheer brute force of her mana. And Irwyn had no illusions what choice the Shadow of House Blackburg would make.
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Chains dragged him away before he even processed they had bound him. In an instant fetters already held each limb in several places. His mind finally kicking into gear, Irwyn attempted to subvert them like he had done with Flame before. It was Light at the core of the chains after all. One withered to nothing as Irwyn wrested the magic into his own hands and then immediately released it. Three more arose to replace it. He had to do more, faster…
A spike of glowing Light slammed into Irwyn’s eye. A lethal blow by any reckoning. Yet Light would not hurt Irwyn just the same as Flame would not burn him. Irwyn subverted more of the chains, his heart racing out of his chest. It was about thinking of them not as individual constructs but a whole. All four chains grasping his left side vanquished at once. The followed up attack consisted of two dozen similar spikes, attempting and failing to pincushion Irwyn. He was sure he would be able to wiggle free with just a dozen more seconds. Alas…
The assassin, clearly a resourceful man, did not attempt to use more Light magic. Even more chains surged to replace those being destroyed. Chaining did not wonder what or how Irwyn was achieving. The man did not stare in stunned surprise nor give up any of his initiative. He just pulled out a large revolver, moving to aim it in one smooth motion. Elizabeth yelled something in the background as everything seemed to slow to a halt. Irwyn was out of Time, still bound. A barrier would not work, the other mage would just break it with his own magic along the bullet’s path.
So, he coursed magic through that small black gem stuck to his chest.
He had not forgotten Elizabeth’s contingency. Perhaps he should have triggered it even sooner but at that moment it was clear to him it was the only option - for all it would apparently be rather problematic that it had been borrowed to him at all. The small gem shattered in an instant. Long before the gun could fire. Irwyn kept subverting the chains as he was not sure what…
◉
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The eye opened.
The eye saw nothing at all.
Light withered away.
Fate flinched.
Time dissolved.
The eye watched, for that was its purpose. An eye needed to see.
Yet the eye had to behold nothing at all - such was its nature. Such was its Truth. Immutable, unchangeable.
And since it must see and must also see nothing, all it sees must become nothing.
The world will have unraveled. Or perhaps it already had. What was the difference between ‘before’ and ‘after’ with chronology driven extinct?
Without Time an instant would last an eternity. Forever could end before it began.
Without Fate, there could be no cause and effect. No purpose. No path to tread, no steps in between.
All that remained then was a conclusion. An inevitability merely stuck in the uncertainty of something ended yet simultaneously also not. The end was foregone, what remained could only be called hollow theatrics.
The eye saw nothing at all.
The eye saw nothing at all.
The eye saw nothing at all.
THE EYE SAW NOTHING AT ALL
The eye…
The eye closed.
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––
Irwyn gasped, air filling his painfully empty lungs. Everything was spinning as reality once again became objective. Whole, unbent. His Soul was quivering - fighting between trying to figure out what had just transpired and assessing what was happening in the wake. The first thing he noticed was that he was lying sprawled on the ground. Next, he remembered the two mages and the rather disastrous situation he had been in an eternity prior. He focused, looking around for the threat, but he could neither feel nor see the slightest trace of his foes. The gem…
“Ugh,” a grunt from the side was the first sound he heard ever since ‘hearing’ became possible again. Elizabeth too was lying on the uneven street, clutching at her head. She seemed all too pale even with her face half obscured.
“Are you…?” Irwyn scrambled to get on his feet and failed. His body felt like shattered glass - too broken to fulfill its purpose. He certainly hoped everything would not begin to hurt as numb as his muscles felt in that moment.
“I am… fine I think,” Elizabeth took a deep breath, remaining sprawled. “I hope. I might vomit.”
“What happened?” Irwyn asked, also giving up for the moment. He paused, his mind staggering. “Was that… your contingency?”
“I suppose it was,” she chuckled weakly. “I suspected, you know, even if I wasn’t told. But no expectation could ever prepare me for witnessing that.”
“What kind of magical bomb was it?” Irwyn questioned. “It felt like reality was forced to break.”
“Not a bomb,” Elizabeth inclined her head. “And it felt like that because reality was bent.”
“Semantics,” Irwyn grunted. “Then offensive enchantment, or artifact, or whatever it was. You know what I mean.”
“I know what you mean, and you are wrong,” she replied. “The gemstone wasn’t too highly enchanted. It was not really the source. It’s effect was far lesser.”
“Then what did it do?”
“It only told someone where to look.”
“The Duke,” Irwyn paused again, staring. Because that was his first guess. Elizabeth pretty much confirmed it had been the doing of her father with a slow nod. Such incredible might… only to be expected from the man, even if Irwyn’s understanding only clawed at the bare edges of its essence. Yet City Black was a day's travel away, Finity should make that impossible even for the greatest mage… but only if it had coursed through this Realm.
“He did it through the Void,” Irwyn realized. Just like Oxen had arrived in Abonisle with other Shadows during the incursion. Distance barely mattered in those depths. He remembered that... “The only problem then is accuracy; I think you said that once.”
“Hence a beacon,” she said, still clutching her head as she turned her gaze towards him. “A little gem that cannot be missed.”
“Your eyes are bleeding,” Irwyn immediately realized.
“You too,” she smiled softly.
“Why were we hit?” Irwyn hadn't even realized. But indeed, a touch revealed a crimson trail going down his cheek. “Is that a stupid question?”
“A bit,” she chuckled, her voice sounded suddenly… shaken. Forced. Or perhaps not ‘suddenly’, just ‘finally’. “We were not ‘hit’ Irwyn. We were distantly grazed by a tailwind actively trying to avoid hurting us. Do you know what would be left of us if we were ‘hit’?”
“Nothing, obviously. I felt that much,” he slowly nodded, then looked around again. “Like the assassins. There is not even a trace left that they had ever been here.”
“I wish I could have watched it more closely,” Elizabeth nodded wistfully. She finally managed to sit up after a significant struggle. “But my Soul could not handle even this much. The migraine already feels like it will pound out of my skull from what little I gleaned.”
“My head is thankfully fine,” Irwyn struggled to sit as well but his bones still behaved like broken twigs. At least the debilitation felt like it was starting to fade. “I suppose I have my incompatibility to thank for that.”
“Almost certainly,” she nodded. “Though looking at you, I think you might have been more affected in other ways.”
“My limbs are wet noodles,” Irwyn confirmed. “Hopefully that will get better.”
“If not there are healers for everything,” there was no worry about that at least. “I think I can stand now.”
“Careful or we will be stranded,” Irwyn said, looking at the emptiness around them. He only realized then that not only the two assassins were gone - a large chunk of the whole street had vanished. Some of the buildings lost half of their mass and the rest was crumbling. “Well, someone will probably come stare at this sooner or later, once they stop running away.”
“That would be problematic,” Elizabeth also looked around. “I don’t think I can use magic. You?”
Irwyn tried, then instantly flinched from the sudden surge of pain spiking through his head. Looking within he immediately realized the problem: There was not a trace of magic remaining in his Vessel, as if it had been… well erased. Looking further in, he tried to peer into the Funnel that should pour magic from his Reservoir, which appeared woefully damaged. Almost mangled, at a glance. Either way, there was not a trace of magic passing through. “I think all my mana was annihilated as a side effect. The Funnel feels… wrong. Very wrong.”
“Best not to even try and strain it then,” Elizabeth nodded, shakily standing up. She started walking towards Irwyn with strained steps. He managed, with herculean effort, to finally sit up. “We should get going though.”
“If I can walk,” Irwyn noted.
“You will be fine,” Elizabeth slowly made her way toward him, still very much bound to the ground. She seemed to be getting ever so slightly better with each step. When she was finally close enough, she offered a hand which Irwyn took.
Except when they pulled Elizabeth’s knees buckled, causing them to crash into a heap. Hitting his head disoriented Irwyn for a moment so when he came to he realized Elizabeth was sprawled over his chest, clutching at his clothes and crying. Practically bawling her eyes out.
“I am so sorry,” she whispered through the tears.
“Everything is fine,” Irwyn patted her head, unsure what to do about the sudden shift.
“We should have just killed them. Because of my ego you almost died.”
“It was bad luck, incredibly improbable.”
“Still, if I just didn't have to sate my own willfulness it would have been over before it came to that. It was all my fault. Whatever could have happened and still might.”
“Elizabeth,” Irwyn smiled forcing her to look up at his face. Then he hugged her as tight as his still feeble hands let him. “It was not your fault. You were a bit willful, so what? You deserve to be. Life is pointless if you do not enjoy it. Do you think I never messed up in a way that almost got someone I care for killed? That I never did anything incredibly stupid because it felt right in the moment? Mistakes happen, they are no one’s fault or you will drive yourself crazy - we just need to learn from them. At the end of the day, all that matters is that we are both alive.”
“I…” she quickly look away, then went silent. For perhaps half a minute not a word was spoken as her tears withdrew. Then Elizabeth finally spoke again. “I think I despise it. Even more so than I once thought. This weakness. This slippery rope above a bottomless pit.”
“We do not get much a choice in walking it – the Lich War is happening across the entire Federation,” Irwyn pointed out. “And our ‘rope’ is already far less tight than most.”
“Maybe,” she nodded. “But we are so not ready for the Lich war - for any proper conflict, really. I was supposed to have decades still before the Rot next returned. Things were supposed to be quiet for so many more years to come. I imagined I would have claimed a domain at least by the time I was forced to prove my mettle. Yet here I am, out of my depth, praying not to draw in any of the island-sized sharks.”
“What can we do though?”
“Claim it, Irwyn.”
“It?” he raised an eyebrow.
“What we saw today. This power. I always wanted it and said as much. But I think this made me realize exactly how much I actually crave it. To know with certainty that I can make Time flinch. That if need be I can grasp Fate with my own hand and intimidate it into compliance. That pedestal of paragons and immortals in waiting. I want it. I must have it. So, I have decided that nothing will stop me from taking it.”
“You make it sound so simple,” he shook his head with a smile, letting go now that Elizabeth seemed less distressed. “As if some of the greatest feats a mage can achieve are as simple as reaching out to grab them.”
“It’s our birthright,” she pushed herself from Irwyn’s chest, standing up, much stabler than before. “What can possibly take it from us except for death itself? All we need is the Time to claim what is rightfully ours. And I see it clearly now, how we can force Fate’s hand to give us exactly what we need.”
“Do tell,” Irwyn held up his hand and she took it, helping him stand. He needed support to not collapse but stand he did.
“It’s so obvious I feel stupid,” she sighed. “No, rather, I have been blind to it because of my Pride. Some misguided sense of duty when I am really more of a burden than a contributor. The answer is simple Irwyn: We are fleeing.”
“Just… running away?” Irwyn stared blankly.
“Exactly,” Elizabeth grinned. “We shall turn tail and flee. Out and away from this Lich War.”
“Isn’t that desertion or something,” he was struggling to wrap his head around such a sudden shift.
“I will just coax my father into giving us a pre-emptive pardon,” she kept smiling wider and wider. “Beg and swear oaths if that is what it takes. They will not stop us if I truly insist.”
“Where to though?” Irwyn nodded eventually. He would not say no to getting away from all of it. The paranoia of the Lich war. The tiresome and dangerous politics… Yes, it sounded rather appealing when put like that. He would miss his friends but he had already realized and accepted that his time in Ebon Respite would… end. The city was simply no longer large enough for him.
“That desert you dreamed of. It’s nowhere within the Federation - I have found out that much,” she explained. “And probably nowhere too close since no record was dug up in a short time frame. But it must be somewhere, right? We will just go look for it.”
“Just wander the whole Realm in the search of a specific, niche, possibly concealed place?” Irwyn asked incredulously.
“Destiny is basically dragging you there, isn’t it?” she rolled her eyes. “We will find it, as sure as dawn and dusk. With the winds Fate behind us we need not steer to arrive where we are meant to be - and it is clear that is where we are to go.”
“Honestly,” he sighed, shaking his head. “We wanted to go back though, didn’t we? Best we head back to camp.”
“Ah… yes,” she said, pausing. “Thinking about it more clearly… I don’t think the communication circuit of my ring is working. Oh, there might be quite the tension building in City Black then. This would not have gone unnoticed.”
“A good reason to hurry,” Irwyn nodded, though he was limping. “It would be for the best if things are made clear before someone teleports in a dozen Shadows.”
And so, they hurried away, just as they remembered coming there: The two of them alone.