“Your dilemma is not easily solved.” Zylara said in a bemused tone while the three continued their descent. “I cannot say I am not envious of your breadth and width of skills and options, but I must admit that it also strikes me as somewhat overwhelming. There are just so many, and your options are even more varied.”
“Your thoughts on Pain Tolerance have merit,” Karsys said when she finished, “but so does your logic with Mana Control. I honestly am not much of a spellcaster personally, and prefer the use of my own weapon skills to overt magical evocation, but…” He frowned in thought while they walked. “I must admit that Pain Tolerance does seem to be the better immediate choice, while Mana Control seems to have greater long-term benefits. The problem though—”
“—is whether or not I’ll survive long enough to make the long-term benefits worthwhile.” Aurelian finished. Karsys nodded in agreement to his summation, and seemed to fall back into consideration thereafter.
“Your lack of ranged attack options is a little worrying, though.” Zylara pointed out. “If you can’t close distance with an opponent, you have few to no answers for what to do. If someone were to hold you at bay with magic or ranged attacks, you’d be largely helpless.”
“That’s true.” Karsys agreed. “And even with your Monarch’s Bloodstorm Infusion, it won’t matter if the damage doesn’t rely on kinetic force. Arrows and blades and spells can still hurt you without kinetic force.”
The fact that the people of the Realms understood phrases and terms like ‘kinetic force’ but boggled at the mention of ‘electricity’, ‘gunpowder’ or ‘computers’, as he’d learned after mentioning both to his new companions in passing, remained a point of some amusement for Aurelian. The ignorance of science enforced by the ease of access to magic had always been an amusing part of fantasy worlds to him, and the Realms were no different.
“I picked up plenty of random weapons and items I could use as throwing weapons during my time in the palace, and have used some such items exactly that way — but I’ve yet to develop any sort of ranged attack skill.”
“Were you throwing with or without focus?” Zylara asked immediately.
“Uh, without I suppose?” Aurelian answered with a raised eyebrow.
“Then that explains it quite well. All skills are based on an Intent, not simply the action themselves. For example you do not gain a Running or Acrobatics skill until you focus, even without realising it at times, on Running or Acrobatics. Then suddenly the skill blossoms and you are aware of it in a way you weren’t before.”
“That… actually makes sense.” Aurelian said with a nod.
“Well of course it does. I said it.” Zylara said primly.
Karsys chuckled to himself and Aurelian chose to take her slight return to arrogance as a sign of her growing comfort with his presence, as opposed to just an annoying personality quirk. He’d take comfort over simpering worship any day.
“So going back to ranged skills, I do have magic but I’m guessing that all magic comes with an uncommon rating, and that Shockbolt and Firebolt aren’t anything special?”
“The fact you can use two elements with any great level of ease is special.” Zylara corrected. “I myself can only use two, but that is considered excellent among most denizens. The greatest spellcasters can manipulate as many as four, but they are born once or twice a generation.”
“How do you tell which elements you have access to, other than skills?”
“Your core.” Karsys answered in his calm voice. “It will always reflect some manner of your core capability. The colour defines the primary magical force you are blessed with, or any others you have access to.”
Aurelian hesitated for only a moment, and then frowned. “My core is prismatic.”
“Prismatic?” Zylara asked curiously.
“It has every colour in it.”
“...”
Both Zylara and Karsys went quiet after that, and he heard both give a heavy sigh a few moments later.
“Nephilim. By all the Eternals. You really are a monster, Aurelian.” Karsys said without malice. There was a level of awe in his tone, in fact. “Every colour? That infers complete access to every magical force. It’s… absurd.”
“It’s exactly what you’ll need if you want to do what you proposed, and actually kill the gods.” Zylara said with a more resolved voice. “Part of me always wondered, despite everything I’d been taught, if the prophesied Nephilim truly would be so special. Charlemagne is one thing, but—”
“Hold up.” Aurelian said while stopping abruptly, and turning to face them both. “Did you say Charlemagne?”
“Yes.” Zylara said with a look of confusion. “What of him?”
“Who is Charlemagne?” Aurelian asked again while looking between them.
“The Regent of Sanctuary.” Karsys answered steadily. “Placed there to watch over our people and the citadel of Last Hope by Lucius Tollarius himself.”
“And you said implied he was a Nephilim?”
“I did.” Zylara confirmed. “Why is that—?”
“Charlemagne is the name of one of the greatest Emperors and Generals the world—my original world, I mean—had ever seen. The man is considered to be among the most prodigious, if not the most prodigious wartime and peacetime King in history. You’re telling me that Charlemagne is the leader of Sanctuary?”
“I… we had no idea that he was…” Karsys trailed off in surprise.
“Charlemagne is… eccentric.” Zylara said with a glance at Karsys. “A little unstable. He likes to rant about being an Emperor, but we all thought he was just a little mad or full of himself. It was never a problem for how he ran the Sanctuary, but…”
“Why the hell do you need me if you have fucking Charlemagne?!” Aurelian asked with a look and tone of sheer incredulity. It was nothing compared to the shock burning through his system. “The man is a legend! The legend! The only thing better would be the Emperor I named myself after or maybe Alexander the Great or Caesar Augustus or—”
“He’s an Echo!” Zylara cut in a little loudly. Aurelian stared at her in surprise for a moment, and she swallowed but continued without stopping. “He—I… he’s an Echo, my lo—Aurelian. The real Charlemagne died thousands of years ago. His Echo was preserved and maintained by the Empire because he was one of the few Nephilim who didn’t go entirely mad before the end. He…” She faltered and turned to Karsys.
“He is all we have left of the old ways.” Karsys picked up while giving Zylara a warming smile. “The only thing left of our true heritage. Everything we know of Elysea, of the Empire… it’s all been passed down directly from Charlemagne, and he keeps it from being muddied or misunderstood century after century. Something in the Sanctuary keeps him going. He draws strength from the sustaining force of the settlement, and his duty.”
“He is extremely dedicated. A man of pure force and will. It… is perhaps not a surprise, now, to hear of who he was from one who knew him. We knew he was a highly capable statesman and administrator, and his work has kept our military forces incredibly potent through the millennia, but we never expected…”
“An Echo.” Aurelian said when Zylara trailed off, and leaned his weight against the bannister. “Of course. An Echo. That makes so much more sense. The fact it’s Charlemagne is still insane, but as an Echo… yeah I could see that. Especially if the old Empire learned his actual value. Christ…”
“DID I HEAR YOU CORRECTLY?” An earth-shaking voice boomed suddenly. “CHARLEMAGNE LIVES?”
Karsys and Zylara dropped into combat stances — amusing without any real weapons — and looked around with open shock at the sheer force of the reverberating voice, and the sudden shaking within the cavern. Aurelian suppressed a smile and looked out into the blackness, only to be met by the sudden blaze of a single, massive golden eye.
“Hello, Bael’tharax. You’re using your flare for the dramatic again, I see.”
The massive leviathan snorted powerfully enough to almost shake Aurelian free of his precarious position, and he frowned in annoyance at the massive dragon.
Karsys and Zylara, however, were not handling things well. Karsys was on the steps hyperventilating and staring at the eye like he was midway between a stroke and shout, and Zylara appeared to have been struck dumb by the sight of it. She just sat on her knees and stared with a slack jaw.
“Great…” Aurelian muttered before turning back to Bael’tharax. “Hey, gramps? Can you go wait down there while I collect my new companions and try to work them through the trauma of your gigantitude?”
“DO NOT TARRY. I WISH TO HEAR MORE OF THIS TURN OF EVENTS.” The dragon king growled before vanishing down once more into the depths, which steadily began to light up now that his intended trick was done. How an ancient and worldly being thousands of years in age could be so amused by pranks was a mystery Aurelian had yet to solve. Then again, his own grandfather — Pop as he’d called him — had loved to play practical jokes. Maybe it was an old people thing.
“Yeah… sorry. I should have warned you both. So that’s Bael’tharax, the last dragon king, et cetera. He’s Bahamut’s father, in simple terms.”
Karsys and Zylara both turned their shocked features to him, and he smiled in amusement.
“Hey look. Karsys is finally as pale as you are, Zylara.”
That seemed to get through to them, and suddenly the pair were picking themselves off the floor and throwing a blistering salvo of questions at him that Aurelian could barely make heads and tails of.
“Where did he spend—?”
“—alive all this time—”
“—possibly expect us to—”
“—completely insane that he—”
“—help with Sanctuary’s defe—”
“—us to fight the enemy army—”
Aurelian threw his hands up and shoved them open-fingered into each of their faces, stopping their joint fusillade of questions dead. “Enough.” He said with a hint of annoyance. “Neither of you were entitled to any information, I’ll remind you, and while I am sorry for not warning you about him, I will point out that you also never thought to ask why we were descending into the gigantic black cave.”
“I thought it was Bahamut’s lair…” Karsys admitted sheepishly.
Zylara remained tight-lipped, but her glance at Karsys told Aurelian she likely shared the assumption.
“It’s a little big for Bahamut, but it’s not an unfair guess.” Aurelian said while lowering his hands. “Look, you can ask Bael’tharax as many questions as he’s willing to answer — but first we need to get down there, and both of you need to get a grip on your panic. The place is lit up now, so just look over the edge while we descend and you should be able to see the big lizard lying there. Use the time to wrap your heads around his scale. It helps.”
Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.
“How were you so unaffected by his presence?” Zylara asked softly. “I felt as if I were about to be crushed. Like the heart in my chest would explode at his mere whim. It was… it was overwhelming. He is overwhelming.”
“I didn’t develop Dragon’s Resolve without incident.” He responded simply.
That seemed to satisfy them both, as Karsys and Zylara jointly seemed to relax somewhat at realising that perhaps they weren’t massive cowards for falling apart at Bael’tharax’s presence.
“As to why he can’t just blow out of here and kill all the undead… well that’s because he’s dying.” Aurelian sighed and turned to continue descending. “Follow me and I’ll tell you the whole story, from when I arrived to meeting Bael’tharax and even how I met you two. I guess it’s about time I did, and Bahamut has probably filled in Bael’tharax and Tarixi already.”
“Tari—?”
“Another Echo. Sort of my teacher, along with Bael’tharax. I’ll explain while we descend.”
True to his word, Aurelian launched into his explanation, starting from his memories of his last day on Earth and all the confusion and wonder that it inspired in his new companions. He took pleasure in explaining the many differences between Earth and the Realms, and especially the way in which humans in his original world had innovated to make up for the lack of magic.
On and on they spoke, and down and down they descended, all while Aurelian told his tale and his new companions listened with a mix of disbelief and interest. They pointed out various points of flawed logic as well, such as his lack of experimentation with weapons like spears or the quarterstaff, which would have suited his situation perfectly; or the fact that he was sheathing his sword on his back.
That, he learned, was apparently very illogical and inefficient. They were quite emphatic about that.
He even received a mild chastisement for the reckless way in which he upgraded his skills, and was told more than once how important it was that he not melt his own brain through the use — or rather misuse — of upgrade and evolution points. Zylara even announced quite firmly that she would ensure he learned how to wield a bow, if for no other reason than the fact his access to all magic — especially Lightning and Force magic — would make him a terrifying archer if he became even halfway decent.
By time they reached the lowest levels of the Dragon’s Lair, the pair had also largely adjusted to Bael’tharax thanks to their constant and progressively less wide-eyed looks at the gargantuan dragon. Seeing a creature bigger than some city districts was likely more than the pair could fully wrap their heads around with immediacy, but exposure over time had dulled their shock into a more placid sense of passive awe.
That he couldn’t blame them for. When viewed from on high, Bael’tharax’s scale was staggering.
When they started making their way across the relatively flat surface of the cave after reaching the bottom, Aurelian glanced back surreptitiously to ensure both elf and human were keeping it together while approaching the massive head of Bael’tharax and hovering projection of Tarixi. To their credit they moved with determined, straight-backed postures and met the sight of the skyscraper-devouring dragon with steel in their spines.
If their skin was a little pale, or there were a few glimmers of sweat on their brows, Aurelian wasn’t about to judge.
I see they are not cowering like frightened hatchlings. Bahamut sent to him with amusement.
Yeah they’ve gotten better. Never really thought about how terrifying Bael’tharax would be to other people. The whole thought of ‘other people’ had become sort of a tertiary concern, honestly.
At least they are showing courage. It speaks well of their character.
Aurelian agreed silently with his companion while the three of them crossed the distance to Bahamut’s waiting father, and came to a halt near Tarixi’s ghost. When they finally noticed her, both Elyseans started and proceeded to exchange confused looks for a moment.
“Aurelian, you never told us that Tarixi was a goblin. There must be some mistake.” Karsys said with a frown for the hovering Echo. “She cannot be Elysean.”
Aurelian blinked and turned to face the human, both eyebrows rising while he did. “Excuse me?” He asked with confusion.
“Goblins and Gnomes cannot be Elyseans.” Zylara said with the same frown. “They’re subject species. Only Humans, Elves, Dwarves, and Orcs are descended from the Empire.”
Aurelian stared at the pair of them in silent disbelief for a moment. Had he never mentioned in his retelling that Tarixi was a goblin? He searched his memory rapidly and realised that no, he in fact had never mentioned her species. It hadn’t even occurred to him to do so. His brows drew together, and he turned toward Tarixi and Bael’tharax — only to be preempted by the dragon’s voice.
“WHAT RANK IDIOCY IS IT YOU ARE SPOUTING, CHILD?” Bael’tharax thundered loud enough to make Zylara and Karsys take a step back in shock. “TARIXI FIRESOUL WAS AN ARCHMAGUS OF THE FLAME. SHE WAS MORE ELYSEAN THAN ANY TEN OF YOUR MEWLING ANCESTORS PUT TOGETHER. SHE WAS A HERO. HOW DARE YOU BESMIRCH HER MEMORY WITH SUCH VILE, UNFOUNDED, REPULSIVE RHETORIC.”
The dragon’s colossal head had moved closer by that point, and his golden eye was burning with disapproval and a smidge of wrath at what he had very clearly overheard. By that point of course, both Karsys and Zylara were frozen in either disbelief or fear, Aurelian couldn’t guess which; but either way the pair barely appeared to be breathing.
“Hold a moment, Bael’tharax.” Tarixi said into the tense silence that followed. “I am curious about these assertions. Something tells me that these two are not to blame for the rhetoric, disgusting as it may be.” She drifted closer with a brief smile of welcome to Aurelian, and then fixed her little fists on her hips and stared down at the two new arrivals. “Elaborate quickly, before I let the dragon king eat you.”
Bael’tharax growled to emphasise her point, and both of Aurelian’s new companions collapsed onto their bottoms when their legs failed.
“Jesus…” He muttered. “A little heavy, don’t you think?”
Tarixi didn’t appear to hear him, though he did see her spectral cheeks colour if only slightly.
“We—we—I—um…!”
Aurelian sighed. “Karsys. Zylara. Focus. Bael’tharax isn’t going to eat you.” He glanced at the old dragon warily for a moment. “I think. Just tell us what the hell is up with the whole racism thing.”
“R—racism?”
“Prejudice. Discrimination. Negative bias towards a species or ethnicity,” Aurelian said impatiently. “Just explain your view on gobbos, guys.”
“Gobbos?” Tarixi asked in a bewildered and mortified tone.
Aurelian waved her off, focusing on the two flummoxed ‘Elyseans’.
“Th—the Senate of Sanctuary, under the auspices of the elected Consul, decreed that Goblins, Gnomes, Selkies, Kobolds, Fairies, and all other lesser or beastly bloodlines be reclassified under law as subject races, in keeping with the discovered annals of ancient Elysea.”
“It happened centuries ago!” Zylara blurted. “We weren’t even born then. Charlemagne did nothing to stop it, so we all just assumed it had to be true. I mean… all the depictions of Elyseans look like Half-Elves with the occasional orcish mix. We—we never thought anything of—”
“Of course Charlemagne let it happen.” Tarixi said with a grumble. “Of course his Echo is still kicking around. And of course he’s in charge of a secret remnant of the Empire none of us knew about. The Imperator always said his value was far greater than his eccentric biases, but Lucius should have known something like this would happen in that sort of situation.”
Tarixi sighed and turned to Aurelian. “Charlemagne disapproved of the blatantly non-human races because of that damnable origin world of his and its mad mythology. He believed we were all monsters or some such idiocy. ‘Demons’ to hear him say it, waiting for a chance to steal everyone’s souls.”
Karsys and Zylara glanced at each other dubiously, but didn’t interrupt.
Aurelian grimaced. “I can believe that. Charlemagne ruled over an Empire mired in religious superstition and intense faith-based theocratic autocracy. He likely believed that there was some semblance of the old faiths truths in the Realms, and used your species as a focal point for his… I dunno… means to ground himself. I can see a devout catholic attempting to rationalise his new existence that way.”
“But Charlemagne has guided Sanctuary for millennia!” Zylara interjected with a measure of her old confidence returning to her voice, though she looked mostly at Aurelian. “He’s been nothing but a boon to our people. Without him, we’d have never figured out how to tame the Desolation to the degree we have!”
At her words, Bael’tharax’s eye slitted and he focused on her and Karsys.
“CHARLEMAGNE WAS A NIGH PEERLESS WARRIOR, GENERAL, AND ADMINISTRATOR. NOBODY IS REFUTING THAT FACT, CHILD. HOWEVER HIS VIEWS ON NON-HUMAN RACES WERE PROBLEMATIC, THOUGH EVEN I AGREE HE NEVER SEEMED THAT VIRULENTLY AGAINST THEM.”
“Very likely he just saw an opportunity and… let it happen.” Tarixi said bitterly while Zylara let out a shaky breath of relief. “I doubt the old grouch orchestrated it, he respected the Imperator too much to openly alter his designs that way, but if the elected Consul peddled the narrative…”
“...then Charlemagne would have no obligation to gainsay it.” Aurelian said while rubbing his forehead. “Fuck. Never meet your heroes, huh?” He looked at Tarixi. “I’m surprised you didn’t know about Sanctuary, and that you’re barely even affected by the news. I thought you’d freak out, honestly.”
“There is little to be overtly excited over. These people may call themselves Elysean, but their races are Human and Elf, albeit a Storm Elf.” She said the last with grudging approval. “They are not Elysean.”
“Excuse me?” Zylara said immediately. “Who are you to—?”
Bael’tharax growled again, and Karsys placed a hand on Zylara’s shoulder while she cringed at the dragon’s ire.
“The last true Elysean likely died millennia ago. You children…” Tarixi sighed heavily. “You have no idea what the name even means. You’re holding onto an identity, which is perfectly acceptable, but conflating it with genealogy as well. That is flawed.”
“We’re the true inheritors of the Mantle!” Zylara argued again.
“Zylara is… impassioned, but she isn’t incorrect, honoured elder.” Karsys said to Tarixi with careful diplomacy. “We do keep the Mantle. It is ours by right of birth.”
“Really now?” Tarixi asked in a tone that Aurelian could tell was forcefully measured. “You do, do you? Right of birth, is it? Then recite it for me. The oath of the Mantle. Right now.”
Karsys and Zylara glanced at each other, and then to Aurelian, who just shrugged at them and nodded. The pair seemed to take heart in that, and launched into a perfectly scynchronous recitation of something Aurelian could tell was ceremonially important.
“By blood and blade,
By might and magic,
Under threat of pain,
Under threat of doom,
Never shall I waver.
For I am the Shield of the Deserving,
I am the Sword of Judgement,
I am the hunter that seeks,
I am the listener that heeds,
I am the guide who lights the way.
By the Sun’s paternal light,
By the Moon’s penitent glow,
I shall defend the righteous, the faithful, the pure.
Mine is the task of defending all worthy peoples,
And sheltering all lesser subjects of the Empire.
This is the Mantle of Elysea.
This is the Oath of the Chosen,
And its burden do I carry with pride.”
The pair finished the recitation and Aurelian resisted the urge to clap. When he turned to Tarixi though, instead of approval or even an expression of being impressed, what he saw was something else entirely.
Rage. Rage like he had never witnessed.
And beneath it pure, unfiltered, undiluted pain.
“Tarixi?” He asked carefully.
“How long?” She demanded of the two steadily more confused new arrivals. “How long has it been since it happened?”
“What… I am afraid I don’t understand, honoured eld—?”
“How long have you been reciting that thrice-accursed, wholly damned, garbage imitation of our most sacred oath?!”
“Tarixi, what’s going on? You asked them to—”
“That is not the Mantle, Aurelian!” Tarixi said while spinning. “That… that is not the oath we swore. Those are not the words we live by. That is a binding. It’s a ritual spell. Those words are the declaration of fealty to our greatest enemy!”
“Wait, you mean—?” Aurelian turned to face his two companions, and activated his Dragon’s Gaze. Without hesitation, he pushed past the surface… and felt his insides turn cold.
Two radiant golden chains, far thinner than Lycinius’ own but very much present, glowed their way up to the cavern roof.
“Fuck…” Aurelian whispered.
“INDEED.” Bael’tharax said with a low snarl. “IT IS A PRAYER OF FEALTY TO SOLARIUS.”