25th of Locus

The Sum of All Things

V

"And so the Alisan forces retreated to their home in the north, and the Calamonis were left to pick up the pieces, and to sweep up the ashes..."

The call of destiny is a hard one to ignore. At least, that's what Tyverius Lancewood thought, laying now in a much more exquisite bedchamber than the one he'd grown accustomed to over the past decade of his life. It was an easy choice to take up that mantle offered by Cedric, an easy choice to allow himself to become a Dyosius-blessed Etherian Knight under the Hunters' new reign of Calamon. It was an easy choice to want to defend this land, these people who embraced the thrills and wiles of life so voraciously.

But whatever Tiana stayed for, he could not guess. Whatever Copper had decided his purpose was in becoming a Knight, he did not know. He could only guess at his own reasons. And so he put the two out of his mind, as he always did. He was an Etherian Knight, alone. Ever alone, ever quiet, ever vigilant. Whether they bore the same sense of responsibility and duty as he did, he did not know nor care. And that was the way he liked it; self-reliance when he knew not whether the others would prefer to save him... or to let him drown.

He hopped up from his bed, slithered light-footedly across the verdant green carpet of his domicile, and skittered out the door in a silent, smooth movement.

The hall that led to his room was full of light, the walls bright with tan Calamoni plaster, the floor adorned in gold-trimmed orange carpet.

He slid ever more silent into the main foyer that connected the eight rooms in the south-west dormitory wing of Kyrrith, the capital building of Calamon.

There were two patterned sofas beneath a glistening chandelier, some loveseats to match, all pointed out a glass wall into an orange-flowered garden.

And there was someone in one of the seats, plucking at the strings of an instrument. A hurdy-gurdy, he thought it was called. The song produced was quite somber, quite beautiful, quite simple. Tyverius swept into a shadow behind where the seated silhouette plucked at the thing. They were in the loveseat facing the window, silent except for their song.

Tyverius took another step.

"I know you're back there." the seated figure said, suddenly.

The archer tensed up.

"My Etherian has his eyes on you."

Tyverius' eyes darted around the room. Indeed, he hadn't seen the pale thing called Vrail in the corner of the room pouring himself a cup of tea, dressed up in a black and purple suit. His body lost its tension, relaxed into an upright, unconcealed position. "Good evening, Copper. It wasn't that my intention was to sneak up on you."

"If it were, I'd say you've done a shit job."

His half-masked face lost its softness. The hurdy-gurdy continued to play. "That's a beautiful instrument."

"Mm." was Copper's short reply. The playing grew just a hair more intense, hardly enough to notice. Tyverius certainly did not notice it, and the playing fell back to the drab quiet that it had been.

There was the crack of a door opening some distance away, from the opposite hallway than Tyverius had come from. There came the red-skinned woman, wearing only her underwear below, and a ragged, stained shirt above.

"Tiana," Tyverius muttered, looking away, "good evening."

She did not reply, merely brushed past the sofas and through the nearest doorway to him, leading to their dedicated kitchen.

Tyverius sighed slightly.

In such good company, who can blame me for my high spirits?

"I'm going out." said the archer.

"Mm." Copper repeated.

"Ask her to put on some pants, if you would. We are knights, of some fashion." Some dignity could hardly go awry...

Then the plucking stopped. It seemed that Tyverius had somehow plucked a bad chord with that one, and so he slipped away through the doorway as quietly as he could.

"Good evening, Tyv!" said an apron-dressed Marisol in the glowing kitchen. She was frantically whisking some light mixture in a bowl while Tiana looked on with a disdainful sneer. "I'm not much a chef, thought I'd try my hand at it anyway and see if I couldn't make us all something nice tonight to commemorate our new ranks, and new group."

Her smile was so warm he thought he'd be sick, he was sure Tiana was already sick. Marisol was the only one who appeared unburdened by their complexities, the only one who had no mind for the bitterness she'd suffered, the deaths and torment and plights rampant all throughout Inner and Outer Calamon, and most of the world.

How do you stay so chipper? he wanted to ask her. But now was not the time, not with Tiana about to snap for no explicable reason over Marisol's shoulder.

He escaped the scene yet again, padded down the main hall of Kyrrith with some new sense of urgency. Not only had he not asked her that, he had neglected to say anything at all. He'd have to make up for it later, he'd be sure to indulge her in lurid conversation at some later time, some later date.

He rounded a glossy-floored corner, nearly bumped into the black-robed man on the other side. They avoided each other by a hair, then the robed man, with his scruffy mess of hair and beard, turned to him in welcomed surprise. "Tyverius. You look well."

"Mm." was all he managed. He corrected it with a stammer, "I-I am. Thank you. Sorry, Cedric."

"Sorry? For what?"

He couldn't think of why he'd said it. He couldn't think of why he'd said anything to anyone up until this point.

Cedric seemed to notice something in his distant gaze. "It'll pass with time, Tyv. I've died at least once, maybe twice. Rykaedi stitched my soul back into my body both times. You were luckier to be able to use Dyosius to patch it up yourself, your willpower is more than ample, more than deft. But if you're confused right now, feeling uncharacteristic… it'll pass with time." At least, I hope, thought Cedric. I'm still waiting for everything in my own mind to be cleared up.

"Thank you." Tyv said again. "I really do appreciate everything you've done for me. I want to do my best to uphold my own end of this agreement."

"I'm leaving Calamon in your hands. Marisol will take charge of you and yours, she won't lead you astray."

"I know."

"Good. Trust her. I hope you'll trust me, too, and the Calamon we're looking towards. Any questions, ask away. I won't hide a single truth from you."

He thought about it. When he couldn't think of a question, he simply said "thank you," continued through Kyrrith to the grand front doors, and stepped out into the blackened streets of daytime Calamon. He walked the cobbled road, passed the last few beggars and scoundrels who yet roamed the damaged streets of their once-great city. He shook his head at the homes with their doors kicked in, the buildings with their windows shattered. Such a sad state of affairs. We've ruined ourselves beneath the wrath of Calamity.

The air was hot. His skin was already tingling with Hemah's wrath; another Etherian, he'd learned. And the black sun was the result of another Etherian named Tartys. In fact, Marisol and Cedric had briefed them on all of their enemies. Alisa, first, was their most pressing challenge. They'd been fought off for a time, but it wasn't unrealistic to think the siege may continue for the next few months. It was up to the Knights to rout them, should they try anything.

Next pressing, or more, depending on the context, were all members of The Twelve, a group that he'd thought was disbanded at least an era ago.

Kogar was their number-one threat, an Etherian warrior who considered himself a god. Second was Rykaedi, a queen of undead, the same threat who had been their saving grace in the latest Alisan Conflict.

A man named Jirtu was third, he remembered. Then Hemah, and there was no telling how much of a threat Tartys was, considering nobody had ever even seen the man. If he even is a man.

Tyverius went up the stairs to the First Petal, the steep, steep steps that led up to the precipice over that amphitheater valley. At the top, he leaned over the guardrail, leered down into the bloodstained crater where once many an event was held, where many a joyous occasion was celebrated.

He sighed. Everything that had once seemed good about Calamon was gone. Every single spark of life, of goodnaturedness, of heart and soul, of art and magic, snuffed out in an instant beneath the hellscape that was Calamity. Every adventurer, every mage, every fighter and archer and whoever else, they'd all proved small, feeble, worthless in the face of Etherians. Calamity had been a great equalizer, now everybody's place was the same. High magi had become glorified water purifiers, glorified food preservers. Archers and swordsmen had become either Hunters or bandits, men who called themselves mercenaries were suddenly a monumental fortune to acquire for protection or for levies. The value of the Cromer, their native currency, had crashed to nothing. They were no longer the richest country in both wealth and prosperity, but now the poorest by far. All because of an Etherian.

And those who chose to rival Calamon knew that same horror, the horror of Rykaedi's undead armies who could be snuffed out only temporarily by the Silence, by Antithesis. But still, they'd won the day. Once the Alisans reached the walls and finished slaughtering the few hundred Hunters who were meant to act as the defense, all those corpses rose up to create a pure, toxic hell. Copper knew that better than anybody.

There was a sound nearby, footsteps. His fingers wrapped around a dagger in his waistband. He glanced backward.

Tiana.

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A woman in a dark robe. A magi woman. A woman with red skin, a pointed horn, and one with the end sliced off.

She seemed to notice that he'd glanced at it, and she rubbed the wet off the end of that broken horn, some kind of clear discharge like a wound would produce.

"You alright?" he asked after a pause.

"Mm."

Tyverius shifted uncomfortably. "You can come closer. If, I mean, there was something you wanted to talk about…?"

"I will speak when I have need to." she said with a scowl. But she didn't leave. She was still staring at him, then darting her eyes over the precipice, then staring at him again, repeatedly. He didn't even need to look at her to know – his Etherian had a spectacular talent for blending in, even in plain sight, pushed right up against Tyverius' back.

He sighed softly, then stared off over the precipice again.

This is going to be a most interesting time to live in.

X

Rykaedi stood atop the wall in glee. She smiled and waved at the collapsing crowds all around the wall, all of the Calamoni soldiers and adventurers intermingled, falling and then coming back as corpses to fight the good fight.

A figure managed to get a foothold on the wall beside her. Someone had fought past her undead Calamoni guards.

"Rykaedi." said the boy.

"Castelbre! I'm delighted to see you!"

She turned with a great big smile. Cedric was tired and sweaty. He wiped his brow with his forearm. His other hand held his Sylvet shortsword.

"Growing weary? I'd hoped that my aid would give you some respite."

"That body isn't yours."

She showed it off to him, turning at every angle to make sure he saw every inch of the once-dead Miriam. "Oh? Hurts your heart, does it?"

"Just stay away from Marisol." he spat, and stepped up beside her to glare at the horrible mess over the wall. His sword dispelled into nothing, the ley flattened back to its natural position.

Rykaedi smirked. "Can't kill me, can you?"

"The Hunters put up a good fight. But they're untrained – without this, what you're doing, we'd be dead in the water."

"I know."

"Why are you protecting Calamon?"

She raised an eyebrow.

"There's something hiding here. Isn't there?"

"I just love my home city, and who doesn't? So much has happened here – the Trance, the Tower, many a child has stopped in awe here, and many a child will."

You don't value those things.

Don't I?

They were perfectly alone in the space between their minds. None could peer. None could pry. A communion of their raw esera.

You're the God of Marrow and Death.

And what better place to find it than here? My followers are here.

Your followers are everywhere. Anywhere that they worship death or unlife, you reside. That's from where you siphon your power. From sacrifice, from horror, from bone and body alike.

I agree. But Calamon is different. They've welcomed me from the first.

The same way they welcome Azafel. Just as they reject Evra.

Indeed.

And?

There was a gap in thought.

Where is she?

Rykaedi could no longer restrain the open-mouth smile that fell upon Miriam's thin lips. All grew dark around them.

Even if I tell you, you've the key without a lock.

But all at once, they all knew the answer:

Nihil Maxim.

"Captain Cedric!" The voice of a woman broke the trance.

He turned. Marisol was coming up the steps toward them. But when he glanced back to Rykaedi, she was gone. He breathed a sigh of relief.

Marisol made the Hunters' sigil with her hands. She was panting, just as tired as he was. Cedric stepped down from the ledge carefully. "You look tired, Marisol."

Her words came out in one desperate breath, "Yes sir."

"You don't need to refer to me like that, you know."

She shook her head. "I do. I do, or else we'll all get complacent when it comes time for us to listen to you. I want to lead by example, I want to show my people how to pay respect to you. For all you've done."

Cedric thought she was about to collapse. He stepped forward and braced against her. She leaned her head against his chest.

"We're winning." he said. "You can go rest, now."

She shook her head again. "Mm-mm. I can't yet. Not yet."

But she doesn't know that we're not winning because of her own efforts. He looked up to the battlement which hid the horrible war beyond. Some sounds, cries and clatters of steel, still resounded all the way up to them. He took his own deep breath, then released her into a stumble. "That's an order, Marisol. You're to go rest. I don't want to see you again for at least two days; hells, take a week."

She gave a weary, kind smile. She saluted. "Yes sir!"

He looked over the wall again as she left, where the Calamonis braced up against the Sel, the Frex, the Azar, and the men.

But that's what stood out to him: Humans…

His Etherians could tell even from so high up that the Alisan side of the fight had brought men. They'd erected camps some distance out, just past the river. Not many, but just a few. And some were clad in silver armor.

His mind went to Faunia. His brow furrowed.

And then did his crimson wings tear through his robes, and he leapt out onto the wind.

X

The frey princess Aeo with her crown-like spikes atop her head gave a deep sigh of relief as she sank her transparent body into a large pond within the King's Garden, a place full of beautiful, incredible flowers. A place that had looked much nicer, glowing even, in a time before Calamity. As it stood now, it was an amorphous black shape filled with only more shadow, though she could not deny that the cool pond was still most pleasing to her skin.

The nearby sel with his crooked nose and long black hair could not retract his eyes from her bare body – Kythrim. One of her peers on the council. A member of the high oligarchy, and the one most known for his golden tongue.

"You look lovely tonight, even without the moonlight, or sunlight, or any light at all."

"Uh-huh. Go fuck yourself." she spat, turning away. She waded slightly back, away from him.

"You wouldn't mind if I hopped in, would you?"

She only glared again. Her own golden voice sung, "You came here for something, didn't you?"

"Just to see you, my lovely Nymphaea." He looked away to the dark sky, the white blob that should have been a glowing moon. "And, to get your thoughts on the war. On the retreat. They did not hold that siege long."

"No. They didn't."

"Kyvir's death was one thing. We hardly had ample substitute. Then the King dies, Vindicus dies, our whole empire beings to crumble from the head down..."

"Mm."

He placed his glistening eyes back on her slender, water-obscured figure. He smiled slightly. "I had higher hopes for Vorez, I'd hoped he might be as ruthless as one of us, without orders to dictate him."

"Vorez is a damn coward, a man. And besides, there is something compelling about such a stern, hostile rejection."

"Oh?" Kythrim leaned in close, letting her see his dumb smirk. "Do tell."

She ran her gentle fingertips along his hand, moving upward over his jacket to caress his indented cheek. "Imagine for just a moment, instead of my gentle words, my feeble attempts to deny your inevitable advances…"

Her hand suddenly grabbed the back of his neck tight, her offhand lunged up for his collar, pulling him down into the water with a loud splash. The courtyard guards broke into alarum as it echoed over to them, shouted to ask if all was well with the two.

She held him down, let him squirm for a long moment, then finally released him to the surface, gasping for breath. She brought a sharpened knife up from out of the water, stuck it to his throat. "Imagine I'd just fucking done this from the start."

"Please – no!"

"You can talk your way out of any situation, yeah? So talk."

"I–I won't do it again! I swear, I'll stop!"

"And if you don't?"

"You can…" He stopped to choke on the water in his lungs. "You can kill me! You can…" The choking resumed.

Aeo gave him a hard pat on the back. "Good. But it won't happen again."

One of the guards had come over by then. He asked, "Are you both alright?"

Kythrim accepted the man's help out of the pool. He was still choking, wiping his lips with his wet sleeve to try to get the spit off of himself. "I'm… I'm alright…"

Aeo said, "Have Vorez executed when he arrives. Have his officers put on a display of lashings, have his squad sentenced to time in the dungeons. Give them some loving sessions with our favorite torturer."

"Y-yes, Aeo…" he mumbled, and finally began to stagger away.

Retreating already, Kythrim? And yet your siege of me had only just begun. But mine is a wall you shall never breach.

She considered it for a moment with a grim smirk stuck glued to her face. Then she stood out of the water. Streams ran down her smooth skin, gently splashing back into the pond beneath her. As she stepped onto the dry land, a figure moved from the shadows toward her. It was her assistant, who came close and wrapped a towel around her, then packed it tightly in place. Aeo could not make out any of her features in the anti-light.

"Come, Nereyda." Aeo commanded, walking back toward the glowing palace beyond the dark gloom of the garden. "I just must go to Calamon."