I felt the extraordinary force of the world upon me as I pushed against it. What was left of my muscles screamed in alarm, and I felt my lungs ragged in my chest. I could sense the others around me, but I couldn’t hear them, the exertion threatening to overwhelm me and leave me stranded in a world of black.
No. Not here. How could I let something like this be the end of me? When so much else had failed? I was a demonslayer, god damn it! A battle mage who fought dozens of skilled thaumaturges back on Earth! Monsters beyond imagining in Elys!
I redoubled my efforts, pushing all rational thought from my mind as I pushed back the limits of my humanity. I brought myself to the zenith and locked my arms. Endorphins flooded through me as I achieved yet a higher height than ever before, but the sheer joy wasn’t enough to keep me afloat and a second later I found myself staring at the dirt below me. The black tinge of death licked my boots and grabbed hold of my heart, and I felt the end approach.
A second thud reverberated through the planks to my right as Auro finally succumbed. Honestly, I thought it a minor miracle she’d made it as far as she did. Hopefully we’d meet again the afterlife, though I wasn’t sure how that would work with my transmigration.
Would I go to heaven and Auro to the Star? Or would it just be black? Was this the last concious thoughts I’d ever make? If only they’d been better.
Ah, but it could’ve been worse. At least I’d lived. I’d done something, and that was all I could ask for. Hopefully when they spoke of Ry-
“You both can only do eight?” Fredrick asked. “That won’t cut it.”
“Hey, don’t be so hard on them! I feel like eight’s almost average for a girl.” Breale said. “I bet they’ll be up in a fighting shape if we keep up with this for a couple months.”
I should’ve known I didn’t deserve heaven.
As did Atlas with his boulder, I turned my head from the ground to look at the sack of flesh to my right that almost resembled Auro. Her shirt was soaked with sweat, and her eyes were glued shut as she exhaled in big rasping gasps.
“It’... not worth surviving…” I gasped. “Seek the… the light Auro… that blessed star…”
“I can’t start training them in this state.” Fredrick muttered. “We might have to call it off.”
“Call it off? And send her on campaign in this state?” Breale asked. “I mean, if she doesn’t do any fighting it might be fine, but didn’t Andril want to actually use her?”
“If he wanted to use her in battle he’d organise training himself.” Fredrick said. “If I was to predict, I’d say he just wants to show her off at the start of each battle and then tuck her away. It’d be too counterproductive if she died in battle.”
“He probably forgot she existed already.” Breale snorted. “And that’s why he hasn’t.”
Auro weakly reached out and grabbed my hand, and I almost panicked at the weakness of it. It was already growing cold, and the digits moved as if encased in ice.
“Tell… tell them I was… a hero…” Auro whispered. “That… that I was brave.”
I squeezed her hand, tears welling up in my eyes.
“I… I will..” I said. “I’ll say you were the best.”
With that she fell silent, and I felt a new drive pulse through me. I couldn’t die here, not now. I had to let them know, so that Auro’s sacrifice wasn’t in vain.
“Potions?” Breale voice softened as she turned to Gideon. “Was the one you gave us really that powerful? I thought it was speed, not stamina.”
Ryder, please.
Too busy dying, I of course could not respond.
“Shaking your head… no, it wasn’t that powerful? Adrenaline, then? Hmm…” Breale said.
“I hate to undercut proper work, but if it comes down to it we could look into a magical solution.” Fredrick said. “Don’t you use enchantments?”
“Very few.” Breale said stiffly.
“So we could look into that then.”
An exasperated sigh broke out from the table in front of us.
“They're faking it, obviously. Don’t you see them talking? That’s not something someone gasping for breath can do.”
“Really?” Breale asked.
I felt a shoe prod me in the side, and I held my breath.
“And now she’s holding her breath. Look at her back.”
I sighed and glared at the offending individual.
“[Fuck] off, Luis.” I said. “I’ll have you know I was only being a little dramatic.”
If I were truly to work myself to exhaustion, I’d bet I could get maybe two or maybe three more in, which still sounded pathetic to me, but the cells in my arms were half dissolved already so I’d take what I could get.
“And yet you were able to run across the city with a demon after you before climbing a roofer’s ladder and somehow have enough energy to then fight it.” Luis said. “Excuse me if I struggle to believe you can only do eight pushups.”
“Life and death situations always seem to bring out a certain motivation, funnily enough.”
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
I got up into a sitting position and looked about the room as my breathing calmed.
We’d gathered in one of the many training halls built into the castle, though we’d closed the windows this time due to the recent snows. Luis and Roland sat around a table by the windows with a spread of books they’d brought down from the academy. Apparently the guard had been in a very accomodating move after they’d learned the situation, and the entirety of my class was granted permission to come down once a week to make sure I kept up with everything. In fact, the way Breale told it had them scrambling over themselves to make sure I was still kept on the books of the academy, probably to brag that ‘the first ice mage in a thousand years attended here!’.
And part of our class, of course, was Hosi.
She sat by Roland, reading through a book with her one remaining hand. Surprisingly, she’d returned to classes just after she’d recovered from the ordeal, though she’d been scarce with the details of everything. She did confirm that she was working as Amelia’s aide as Gideon and I had thought, though she seemed strangely embarrassed about it. Perhaps it had to do with her so proudly proclaiming to be not Mistren, but Burgunde when we first met her? Or maybe it was the fact that she was caught in the lie, well-meaning, or not. Either way, she’d asked us to keep her association with Amelia to ourselves.
Not that I had anyone to tell up here in the castle.
Actually, more surprising to me wasn’t that she had returned, but just how normal she managed to make having only one arm look. She moved as though the limb had simply been a training weight that, now removed, let her move even more gracefully than before. Nor could you tell that she only had one unless you looked closely, for she covered her left side with her cloak as if it were a cape.
“Exercise doesn’t work if you hold back.” Fredrick scolded. “You need to give it your all if we’re going to make any progress before you leave. Hopefully you won’t be in actual combat, but this could be life or death if the worst comes to pass.”
“I know, I know. But at the moment I just keep thinking: is it worth living if I have to go through this? Sometimes the answer even scares me.”
Fredrick frowned.
“This isn’t a joke, Saphry. How would you feel if you came under a blade because you couldn’t force yourself to do another pushup now? How would your family, how would Marcolo feel?”
I sighed, knowing that he had the right of it, even if he was a stick in the mud. Saphry’s body wasn’t ready for a playground, let alone a warzone, and if I wanted to trek across the whole of Verol to the Blue Mountains afterwards I’d need to rebuild the stamina I’d lost from the soulscarring. Like it or not, when Saphry got control of her body back it would be ripped. If her soul hadn’t just been purged when I’d come here, that is.
I could only hope that I wouldn’t have to do the same thing once I got back to Earth.
I got up with a grunt and stretched, my muscles burning with each move. Then I dug my boot under Auro’s fallen corpse and flipped her over, snorting as her hair spread out around her. We’d both gotten dressed in simple trousers and light linen shirts, though Fredrick had insisted that we do all our training in the cloak as well because ‘that’s how it would be in real life’, so we each sweated and fumbled with the damn thing inside.
“Time to be a hero.” I said.
She groaned.
“You have to do it more than once?”
“‘Fraid so.”
She sighed and grabbed my hand, and I hauled her to to her feet. Just as I did, however, the door to the training hall squeaked open and a boy no older than twelve poked his head inside.
“Miss Astrian? The Lord Duke is summoning ya to the throne. A letter has arrived from Summark.”
----------------------------------------
I couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed as one of Auro’s sisters handed me the letter. All around me, all of the lords and magistrates of the duchy gathered around in waiting. Most stood silently or whispered in groups, but they filled out the small throne room. Fredrick, Breale, Auro, and Hosi stood behind me by the door, though Luis and Roland were banned entry. Not every lord had arrived yet, of course, but there were still a good twenty or thirty people.
I shot a quick look at Andril as if to say ‘why the hell is everyone here?’, but he simply nodded back. Bastard.
“Eh, a-alright, give me a moment, everyone.” I said with a gulp. “It might just be personal.”
According to what Fredrick had said on the way over, the very act of addressing it to Minua instead of just simply putting ‘Saphry Astrian’ might be a signal of some kind, but it definitely wasn’t a guarantee.
And really, weren’t the chances of it being the worries of Saphry’s father pretty high? And surely a letter promising aid to their rebellion would be addressed directly to the Duke or Andril, right? So what’s the point of getting everyone together then! [Chrisit], did the government really have nothing better to do than wait around and snoop on letters? They at least could’ve waited for me to change.
The note itself came in a thin leather tube, with a seal of wax on the opening side. It was just six inches long, and the seal snapped apart with only a modicum of force.
I hesitated before taking it out. It might be silly, but this was a letter from Saphry’s family, right? A letter addressed to the person whose body I’d stolen myself and kept for the last several months. Was it really right for me to be reading her mail? To see the private wishes of a worried father whose daughter might actually be dead? Or would it even make sense to draw a line at this point? I’d already invaded her privacy in every other way physically possible, so wouldn’t it just be hypocritical to suddenly care now?
I took the letter out of the tube and unfolded it. A clean, perfect script made up several paragraphs, and I ran my eyes down the lines.
Dear beloved Sister, youngest of the line of Astrian.
I hope you are safe and well-provided after your journey to Minua. We have heard news of your flight from the capital and the subsequent business in that great city, but it is to our delight that no more has arrived as of yet. With all luck and light, we should be reunited before the end of the coming summer.
I write to you from our camp in Cinion, at the zenith of Brionin’s Wall. I know it is often said in my letters that we have finally made progress, but I fully believe that some manner of victory has come of them as of late, having brought their most recent attempts to ashes as they ascended the cliffs. You would not like it here, I’m afraid. The air is warm and heavy off the plateau, and the men move with too much energy to be natural. Colgs glide as if afflicted with the frozen plague, and tire quickly without the morning mists to energise them. The small creatures of all variety are a menace, and one would not believe how many more sackflies can exist. Be glad then that you flown away to Verol, for in the lowlands it is instead your skin that flies away in the form of a hundred clicking bites!
As well, our mission seems to come across no end of interesting people in the hills. People of all nations seem to pass through this corridor, and I do mean all. Why, just two days ago a dwarf claiming to be from Morevechi met with Father! He was making for Kazerizz, and though we tried to warn him off he continued on his way. I don’t favour his orders over ours, mind you, for our patrols are much safer than the slogging mountain path he seemed destined for. I can only pray to the star for his well-being.
Still, our mission does not yet lie near its end. The men of the east and the north, though dour and base, have spoken of yet a new offence being gathered over the Mournamel Mountains. Smoke comes easily over those lands on more days than not, and Elys trembles in trepidation of a storm I’m afraid that might yet still come despite our best efforts. Some days I wake up and wonder if I have not yet left the Garden in the depths of the fellvales.
But enough of that. I write not to scare you but to belay those fears I hold myself, and I fear that yet more frightening powers awake at home. I’ve always thought rebellion a nasty business, one more suited to the Ostipers and the Brepolese than good Minuan men, but Father disagrees. He says that the second prince has the right of it here, and he says that Lord Belvan is an honourable man. And though we can’t promise our aid- the forts cry for men even as we speak- Father has permitted me to assemble some company of forty score to send to Minua as ‘Mercenaries’ that just so happens to demand payment in the form of good food, beds, and a stout purpose. I’ve decided to dub them the ‘Arget Spine’. I’m sure you get the joke. I hesitate to announce an arrival date in heed of the early winter storms, but they should break through the ice and be in Minua ere the season’s ending under the command of Captain Gelarin. You should know the man, he worked for the tower garrison on the north wall back in the day. Father apologises for setting this matter through you and not to the Lord Duke directly, but you must understand that such political matters draw forth dire compromise. He hopes you can forgive him.
In the case of your own welfare, however, Father and I agree: You must return to Andorlin. I know your disagreements with the city well, but they cannot keep you any longer. Minua nor Verol will be safe for one of your station, and I would go so far to have hoped that Silst would dissuade you from Minua to instead make towards the sanctuary of the Arguin. Knowing that is not the case, we strongly suggest you come home as soon as possible. If it is possible, make for Sinel along the south of Minua. When in Sinel, look for the magistrate’s offices and make your case. He should broker passage himself on account of his oaths. Without Marcolo, I would urge you not to deal with the captains directly, they will most assuredly swindle you. If all else fails, rely on Silst. He will keep you safe.
I hope you are well, and with all luck and light we shall be reunited before the closing of summer. Keep the heavens at heart, and stray from shadow.
Your thoughtful brother,
Corto faln Astrian
P.S.
Derizvelo has an answer for Silst. He says ‘the bell tolled before the fourth, and yet the hunt continued’. I have no idea what that means and it sounds like cryptic nonsense to me, but he said my transcription was correct and won’t elaborate.
I read it several times in case, a strange feeling that I couldn’t explain welling up inside me at the words. It somehow felt as though a light I hadn’t known I’d needed had shone down from overhead, only to combine with the dread of decision that the last paragraphs had spelled out.
Arget Spine? Was that an in-joke Saphry hadn’t seen fit to give me? I knew that Arget meant ‘star’ in lmeri, but what did ‘star spine’ mean?
The letter also cleared up why they hadn’t sent for me yet as well- they weren’t even in Summark. From the contents, they probably didn’t even know about the whole demon slaying incident, or about my magic yet. That was certain to inspire some slightly different words, and I was a little afraid to find out which ones.
And to return to Andorlin? Well, I didn’t have any great adversion to the city, or even any real memory of it even, but I couldn’t very well renege on my promise to Andril now. I’d made a deal and everything! But what would they say when I sent back that I’d instead been placed in Andril’s army?
Hmm… before the fourth. Unfortunate.
I glanced quizzically upwards, but that only served to remind me that an entire court of people was waiting on me to read. They grew silent as I set the letter down, and I steeled myself to speak.
“Summark will not join the war.” I started, only to quicken as their faces fell. “But they have sent a company of men. They’ll be here before the end of winter.”
I smiled as a wall of cheers responded.