Sometimes, it was good to remember that worrying was a very futile pastime. Riven found the ever-languid Rio back at the Frontier Guard’s garrison, safe and hale apart from some wounds and injuries. All right, some of those looked worrying, but he was alive, walking around and occasionally talking to people.
After sending the Spectres off to the Beyond, Riven had accosted the depleted Guards as they had been ready to set out back towards the garrison. Wilsall had been a font of questions, and Riven had done his best to satisfy the Captain’s curiosity. He’d explained as much as he thought it was all right to let Wilsall know about the Infernal, the Cataclysm, the Scion, the Chosen, and the Spectres they were originally after. In return, he’d demanded all news about the company and the demon army. It wasn’t a pretty tale.
The demons which had supposedly flown ahead of the rest of the army had circled back and attacked the Guards from the rear. Though their numbers had been few and the Guards had pushed them back quickly and efficiently enough the element of surprise had allowed the Fiends to strike hard, killing many in the rear line. Riven had swallowed then, face downcast. The flying demons had never materialized at the Coral Fort as they’d all expected, and Riven had forgotten about them entirely thanks to the events that had followed.
It hadn’t ended there. The Fiends from the front had pushed hard and the only reason the Guards had survived was because Wilsall had manoeuvred them between two series of steep hills, forcing the demons to engage with them with only a fraction of their force. Smart. No wonder the man was the Captain.
Regardless of Wilsall’s brilliance and the company’s efforts, the Guards had suffered severe losses. A third was either dead or injured, many of the suffering closer to death than making a full recovery. Most of those who might survive would never take up arms again. Cripples. The bloody stretchers slung between riderless horses had been filled with bodies missing limbs, pale with too much blood loss, or debilitated in some other way.
It didn’t help that Riven had failed. The main reason they had all laid down their lives was so that the Essentiers could retrieve the missing villagers held captive by the Infernal, and none had come out alive. Not even one.
Not even Darley.
Riven had spent the rest of the ride in quiet contemplation.
Seeing Rio had raised his spirits a little. Especially the sight of the languid Essentier breaking into a run that disregarded his current condition as he saw Lightspeed.
Riven dropped down from his horse, patting its neck. A soldier led it away and as it followed placid as ever, and Riven hid his frown. Wouldn’t do to let them know he was getting a little too attached to a silly horse of all things.
“I’d ask if you’re all right, but you don’t look very all right,” Rio said, face nuzzling Lightspeed’s neck. The horse whinnied back softly.
“I’m fine.” Riven said. “Can’t say the same about you though.”
Rio laughed a soft, a quiet laugh that said it hid more pain than he was willing to admit. “I’ll be fine.”
Riven doubted that, though he kept it to himself. One of Rio’s arms, wrapped in blood-soaked bandages, was hanging in a sling. His left trouser leg had been cut high to expose an indecent amount of skin, but only so his leg could be put in a cast. How he had run all the way to his precious horse was anyone’s guess. Half his face was covered with little bandages and dots of blood and little wounds peppered him like he’d been shredded by briars.
But watching Rio’s condition, only one thought swirled in a vortex growing faster with every heartbeat. Where was Viriya? Was she even alive?
“What happened to you?” Riven asked.
Rio shrugged. “I was thrown pretty far it seemed like. Couldn’t tell you how. Got ripped to shreds by the explosion of Coral and found myself in a very unfamiliar place.” His voice quieted, the good humour fading. “I did see demons though. I followed them, found them trying to get through the breach in the fence, and I killed them before they got a chance to get through.”
“We were shoring up the breach though.” Wilsall had joined them, a little frown worming over his thick brows. “Guards should have been there, ready to stop them.”
He looked around as though to call in the very Guards in question, but Rio spoke up quickly. “I killed them before they went that far, Captain. Then used the breach myself to get in. Met some of your people there.”
Riven frowned at that. Something was a little off about things there, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. “Didn’t you see what happened? Like… there was one huge mess.”
Everyone stared up at that, staring at the Scion still hanging in the sky.
“Oh I did, of course. I wasn’t wholly sure what was happening of course, since all I saw was the distant battle, and then a lot of weirdness. But I wouldn’t have been of much help in my current condition, so I decided to sneak behind the demons escaping and trying to get back inside Providence.”
His words were clipped. Practiced and rehearsed to perfection, ready for any question to be thrown at him. Fake.
“There was a Cataclysm.” Wonder daubed Wilsall’s voice. “I couldn’t believe what I was witnessing, but the whole battle paused just to see that creature in action. It was surreal.”
He shook his head, eyes far away as though still reliving that insane moment. Hours after the incident now, as the impact of it faded from his conscious mind, Riven had to admit that it all sounded fantastical. A Cataclysm coming down and attacking them, when the last had been seen ages ago? A Scion tearing open the sky to observe the goings-on in the mortal realm? A Chosen coming up and speaking with them? Even bedtime stories had more believability than that.
“Well.” Rio’s tone had changed. It was a weird mixture of sadness and relief, as though he was wistful he had missed but hopeful about it too for some reason. “Must have been quite a sight.”
“You made our whole search unnecessary,” Riven said, unable to keep his lips from pursing. “Two whole hours, lost.”
“Ah, sorry about that.” He glanced at this injured arm and leg. “Like I said, wasn’t in any good condition to think much beyond getting help. The demons happened to lie in the same way.”
The first thing they had done when Riven had met the Guards was spread out in a search party. Riven had spent the better part of a few hours hollering Viriya’s and Rio’s names, screaming until his throat had turned hoarse. When he’d next spoken with Wilsall to call the search off, his voice had been parched and barely audible. He had looked in every crack and pond, counted every dust in hopes it would give up some sign of where their quarry lay, had even stared into the abyss the Cataclysm had opened in hopes he’d catch some glimmer of Viriya. She had disappeared in that general area, after all. No such luck. There had been no sign of her or Rio.
“We still need to find Viriya,” Riven said.
Wilsall nodded. “Of course. Tomorrow, we will set parties out at dawn and cover as much ground as we can. We can come up with a better plan tonight in the meantime.”
Riven whirled to him. “We don’t have the luxury to waste so much time, Captain. Who knows what kind of condition Viriya might be in? We need to set out as soon as we can after a little rest, because all real rest needs to wait until she’s been found.”
Wilsall stared at him, eyes growing hard and unyielding as flints. “I thought we had agreed to give the troops some proper rest. Running us into the ground in hopes of finding a—”
His voice cut off all of a sudden, but the unsaid word jarred in Riven’s ear, drilling straight into his brain and refusing to leave. It joined his own thoughts about Viriya’s condition, the two swirling together in a centrifuge of panic, worry, and anxiety. A wonder how Riven hadn’t run off into the Frontier on his own already.
He was about to open to argue, but Rio sidled in first. “I think we all need a good rest. I’m sure Viriya is holed up somewhere, and we just need to get to her once we’ve had a good break. No point killing ourselves trying to find her. For all you know, she could end up here on her own like me.”
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“Clearly, I’m the only one with any sense of decency around here.” Riven spat.
“That is highly uncharitable,” Wilsall said, his frown turning into a scowl. “I understand this is a tense situation, but please try to see it from an overall perspective. We have no intention of abandoning anyone. But there are so many other duties as well that we need to tend to. The villagers living in the garrison, the breach in the fence that we need to properly shore up, and of course seeing to the dead and the wounded. We will find Viriya Rorink, I promise you that.”
Riven did his best not to scowl back, despite the severe urge to do so. In all that long monologue, the Captain hadn’t once called him by any honorific. No “sir”, or anything of the kind. Maybe he was too old to think of bowing his head to someone who was less than half his age most likely. Riven wasn’t one to heed such things normally, but now it made a vein throb on his forehead.
Respect was rare commodity indeed. Precious and to be hoarded when found. Never to be given freely.
“Relax for a bit, Riven,” Rio said, limping towards him to place a gentle hand on his shoulder. The touch burned. “Why don’t you tell me what exactly happened? Seeing a Cataclysm must have been a wondrous experience, not to mention an actual Chosen.”
Riven shrugged off Rio’s arm. “It’s not worth talking about.”
He turned and headed into the garrison. Damn them all. They hadn’t the faintest inkling of everything that could be wrong, hadn’t been in the presence of the Cataclysm and stood witness to the demon’s inconceivable power. Insanity. That was what that kind of power was. The hadn’t heard a Scion’s Chosen speaking as though it was some sort of prophecy.
Nobody called out to Riven as he threaded his way past soldiers and villagers alike. Nobody wanted to. Few thoughts resided with the living in the garrison, hoarded completely by worry over the wounded, and the rest of their minds were spent on the dead. On the lost. The soldiers barely looked up from their assigned work, and most of the villagers wouldn’t meet anyone’s eyes. Riven had failed, yes, but that failure extended to them all, staining and silencing them in equal measure.
He’d wait, but only for a while. They were free to do what they wanted, but so was Riven. Let night fall. Then he’d find Viriya on his own if need be.
#
It turned out, like with Rio, there was no need for them to search. Viriya appeared at the garrison on her own.
Riven had fallen asleep lying on the cot in the room he’d been assigned. His slumber had been fitful at best, which wasn’t helped by the loud hammering on his door. He’d jumped up, glaring everywhere and expecting the Scion to have breathed wrong in their direction or to hear the demon army had finally decided to storm the fence en masse.
But all the flustered Guard had managed was only a short phrase before Riven was flying down the cramped hallways and past the white plastered walls of the garrison. One small collection of words that had set fire to Riven’s feet, making him dash like an enraged bull.
“The other Essentier is—”
She was here. She had arrived. She had kept them waiting to teach them a lesson and teleported right into their midst. Or there was some other news regarding Viriya. Didn’t matter. Riven would go down and find on his own, even if he was half-dressed in his dirty shirt and ruined trousers.
Riven was the first there, besides a couple young soldiers who’d been posted as lookout. When he spotted her in the courtyard and saw enough to understand what kind of condition she was in, he staggered to a stop.
Viriya looked as though someone had taken her form, then twisted it like squeezing out water from a freshly washed dress. She held her left arm close to her guts, while her right arm, bleeding as bad as the other, used a Coral stick like cane. Must have been a broken piece of a Coral branch. Her left leg was twisted bad, and she dragged it across the ground, leaving a trail of blood that stretched out towards the horizon like a boundary demarking insanity. Her hair was matted with dust, dried blood forming a stiff mask on the whole top half of her head.
The only thing that didn’t seem broken or harmed was her eyes. Her irrepressible eyes, black as the night would have been if the Scion hadn’t been shining down on them.
“Viriya…” Riven whispered. He blinked. “Someone get a stretcher,” he yelled.
One of the soldiers who’d been staring at her as though she was an apparition come to bring their worst nightmares to life, went haring off into the garrison building.
“I don’t need a stretcher,” Viriya muttered. She swallowed, and every word escaping from her held a connotation of pain. “I… just need to rest for a bit.”
“Why? So you can finish dying in peace?”
Viriya didn’t stop walking even now that she was well inside the garrison. She reached Riven, her eyes sliding over and past him as though he was part of the scenery. “Rest. Then get the Chasm out of this place and back to Providence.”
“Did you… no I think you did hit your head when whatever happened to you. Trust me, you’re not going anywhere in your condition. You shouldn’t even be walking.”
Even as he said that Riven’s heart spasmed. His hands itched to help her to carry her by himself into the garrison if needed. A death sentence to be sure, but at least he could die knowing he’d helped a little. He shook himself. His head was the last thing he was thinking with at the moment and that had to change.
The Guard who had run inside came back with a stretcher held under his arm like a ladder.
“Pointless.” Viriya looked at the stretcher like it was dung she’d trodden underfoot.
Despite their protests, she went inside on her own two feet. Or one feet and a Coral cane, the other still dragging behind her. Rio and Wilsall soon arrived, and it took quite some fussing before she relented and allowed herself to be ushered into the healing room.
Riven considered waiting outside. There was so much to talk about, so much to ask and discuss. But waiting would draw attention. He’d wait, and so would Rio and the Captain, and what Viriya really needed was some space to rest and relax.
So Riven headed to bed. Their discussions weren’t going anywhere, after all.
#
The crack of dawn culled any notions of waiting. Sleep itself had been a distant dream, little chunks of slumber broken up by stretches of insomnia, the combination of which only made Riven want to pull his blanket over his head and pretend the world didn’t exist for a while. No time for that though.
Everyone was out, for now that Viriya had been returned, Wilsall had allowed all his subordinates an extra hour of rest. Ample time for Riven to bother Viriya.
He was banking on her still being in the healing room, and he was right. The door was closed and there was no light coming out from the tiny gap underneath, but the small glass window revealed her sleeping peacefully on her bed. Riven baulked at the doorstep. This was highly indecent behaviour by any standards, sneaking into a girl’s room at such an ungodly hour, but he only wanted to talk before they got swept up in other business like making preparations to return to Providence Demesne. This was the only time to talk where he wouldn’t have to worry about anyone else overhearing.
Riven knocked. There was no response as Viriya slept on, and why would she? If he had been in her position, he’d be out cold for a whole day at the very least.
Maybe he ought to go back. It was stupid of him to bother her like this when being disturbed was the last thing she needed. His questions were nowhere near as important as her health. He sighed. If he knocked more or louder, he was sure to draw unwanted attention too.
Riven was about to turn away when Viriya shifted in bed. Her head turned and her eyes were open, staring directly at him. It was too dark, but she didn’t seem angry. Not really. Encouraged, Riven tried the door and entered when it opened, closing it softly behind him.
“What do you want?” Viriya asked. Strength flowed with her words, no longer weak like last night when she had arrived.
Riven took the chair beside her bed. The blanket was drawn over her so he couldn’t see much, but the whole top half of her head had been mummified with clean bandages, which said a lot about the rest of her. They had cleaned her though. Her hair was free of dried blood, and her face had been washed, the little wounds all over covered with unguents and ointments.
“I think we need to talk about what happened with the Cataclysm,” Riven said.
“It couldn’t wait?”
“I doubt there’s going to be much time later, honestly. Wouldn’t you agree?”
She said nothing, her dark eyes regarding him like a judge does the accused, strands of brown hair like whiskers about her face.
“Did you… fall into the pit?”
“I did. Must have been your witchy friend. Thank her for me.”
Mhell had used her powers in the same moment the Cataclysm had. She must have broken the ground with her Spirit, and Viriya had fallen through before the Cataclysm could strike.
“How far did you fall? Did you see the Cataclysm or the Chosen when they went down? Or.. anything else?”
The questions tumbled out of Riven before he could stop himself, and he halted with an effort, cursing silently. He was pushing too much.
Viriya turned to lie flat on her back as though she was tired of seeing him. Or maybe the ceiling provided a better canvas for her memories than Riven’s face. “Don’t know how far it was I fell, but my leg took the brunt of the impact. It’s dead… but I’m definitely not. I saw that monster using his powers, and he ignored me when he came down. The Chosen… I assume you mean the man in white armour. I saw him following the Cataclysm.” She glanced at him. “Do you know why they went into the hole?”
It didn’t sound like she was asking him why the demon and the Scion’s Hand had descended into the pit. But rather, if he knew why, which she already did. “I told you what Mhell said.”
“That god you mentioned? The broken one?”
“That’s what we suspect.”
Viriya breathed in sharp, lips thinning, though for what reason Riven had no clue. She turned again, her back to him his time.
“How did you get out?” Riven asked.
“I used my Essence. Threw a rock up and Locked myself to it to get out.”
“Weren’t you out of Sept?”
“Emergency stash.”
“Oh.” Riven was dumb. Of course, Viriya would have some Sept stored away somewhere solely for the purpose of navigating emergencies. “I’m… really glad you made it out.”
She didn’t reply. Her eyes were closed and her shoulders nudged up a little and went down, repeating the motion rhythmically like she was asleep. Or feigning sleep. Riven had been dismissed.
He got up and headed out the door. Her questions still bothered him though, enough to make him hesitate at the doorstep again. “Did you see anything else down there?”
“The Cataclysm was about to attack that god thing you mentioned but was stopped by the Chosen. They fought… but it wasn’t clear. I’m not sure.” She paused. “Good night, Riven.”
A fight. Mhell had suggested that the Cataclysm and the Chosen might be at odds, and it seemed that she was right. One wanted he god dead, and the other alive. Why? What could either gain from it?
But Riven had been dismissed, so there was no opportunity to discuss. He sighed. Then turned and left. By the time he was back in his room, the realization that he hadn’t said “good night” back came too late.
———————
End of Book 1: Deathless Rising