XXXVI.

Heart

His mother stood in the crystal lake, surrounded on all sides by stunningly bright grass, beautiful trees, flowers of blooming orange. A marble path ran somewhere else, through the trees beyond her glistening white gown. Her arms were held wide open for him.

He couldn't help but sink into them, to sink into her warmth. He could barely remember her name — Sytha. A woman of the Jinn, once upon a time. And now…

The disease. The disease took them all. Averis, Klythim, Gorm and Goss. All dead by the wrathful disease that had spread to their village, a place far to the east of Inner Calamon. They never learned the name of the disease. Even in all of his studies post-morbus, he never learned. His powers never extended so far.

He hadn't even learned a cure. If his respirator were to fail without his Etherian, if his Etherian were to halt, even for a moment… his lungs would collapse. His blood would run thin. His skin would begin to boil and blister.

He shook his head. This wasn't the time to think about it. Not in the presence of Sytha.

"Mother, I—"

"You did not save me, Falskar."

His eyes widened.

"...did you?"

He pulled away from her as quickly as he could. No longer was he clinging to his white-robed mother — she had been replaced by a demon. A demon with pale skin and a black-purple dress. Rykaedi.

Rykaedi bit her nail with a taunting grin. "Expecting any other woman to hold you?"

The dreamworld flickered. No — this is no dream.

"You catch on quick. Welcome to the deadworld."

He could not resist the glowing euphoria still, even with damnable Rykaedi within his hands. The aura of the place — perhaps the flowers, perhaps the light — felt good.

"How did I get here?" he asked. Then he realized his missing respirator. He pressed his hand against his mouth. Skin. My face is restored.

"Trauma. It's a common reaction, actually. I was moreso wondering why you called upon me of all people?"

"You? Did I?"

"Indeed you did. And here I was thinking you hated me."

I do. And yet…

He pulled her close again, into a tight embrace. She was cold. She held him back.

Trauma… did Cedric hit me?

"You were faced with the reality of your actions. Actions you've distanced yourself from for far too long. Even your name, changed. To protect yourself."

"I changed it because…"

I did not want my name to be riddled with shame.

She shook her head. Her voice entered his mind: you're protecting yourself.

Falskar couldn't help but turn away, avert his gaze. He held her tighter. His fingers wrapped into the ruffles and laces of her dress. They touched her back. Her freezing skin.

"I want to see my mother. Can you take me to her?"

"I can. But a question first, if you'd humor me. Why Throkos? Why not take the name of your Etherian?"

Falskar couldn't answer. He didn't like that truth. The one thing that, in his mind, still did plague his name. He didn't even dare think it.

"Oh — and we've got a guest." she whispered to him.

His eyes lifted. Over the flowers. Under the trees. Someone was along the marble path. A young man. Dark hair. A soft, caring face.

"Rithi." he muttered, though he felt no rage. His plea was desperate suddenly, his voice was soft and kind: "I forgive you, Rithi. You were trying to help — it got out of your hands, you didn't understand! ...You were trying to help."

The man laughed. "Only ever. It's a shame you didn't see that, er, before you killed me. It might have prevented what's going to happen next."

…Next?

The dreamworld fell suddenly. Sharply. His ears were ringing. His vision was hazy. His respirator was off.

He desperately clawed for it. Just as his hand touched it, the pressure in his lungs became overwhelming. His Etherian was unresponsive.

BFFFFFF…

A horrible warping sound. Then stomping footsteps. A sprint.

Antithesis.

He looked up. Okella was in one of the tunnels, reaching out desperately for him. Tears streamed down her face. His hand reached for her—

And then his blood, the black venom pouring through his veins… it splattered all over the childlike girl, showered through the hallway in a potent spray which died down into a dribbling puddle as a body fell, slumped down to the flagstones.

Okella pressed her hands into her cheeks and let out a roar of pure, agonizing terror. Despair.

A blade had torn through Throkos' thick neck. His head fell and rolled away, almost all the way to her feet. And that was it for him.

But there was hardly time to take a breath, let alone mourn the loss of her ally — her friend. The purple-skinned figure behind him spun and landed with his blade at the ready. "Pek!"

Another one ran from a tunnel. He lifted a crossbow.

Okella launched tendrils at Cedric and pulled herself to him. The bolt fired, and missed. She landed by him just in time, and quickly pulled into his mind.

Then his eyes burst open. He rolled from the ground in a mad rush.

BFFFFFFF…

A hiss. The smell of sulfur. Cedric reached out for Grivonym.

Thunk.

The closer sel's foot stomped onto it. He smirked.

Then Okella's tendrils shot from Cedric's back, latched onto a spot down the hallway behind him, yanked him away.

BFFFFF…

That time he saw it — a burst, a wave that seemed to invert the colors as it passed. When it reached him, he felt faint. That was all.

He landed some fifty paces away, turned, and sprinted as quickly as he could down the hall.

"Okella — what the hell was that?"

Sel! Antithesis! They can shut down an Etherian! We can't reach the ley like this!

First a poison, now a damn horn-headed demon… And here I was thinking we'd be unstoppable with Serkukan. I fell for the same overconfidence as Rithi.

Thwip!

A crossbow bolt tore a hole through the fat of his leg — "Argh!"

He was about to round the corner into another passage — before the first of the two bastards leapt out again at him. He held two blades, both long, one black.

Cedric dodged the blackened blade's swing. He took the steel of the second one to the side of his head, though the angle wasn't right to get a good cut. He stumbled back, struggled for footing.

Then Okella's tendrils grabbed the demon's arms and pulled them wide.

Don't get tunnelvision!

Cedric was lucky enough to spin out of the way of another bolt.

BFFFFFFFFF…

The tendrils released the man when the swarm of antimagic hit them. Luckily enough, that second bolt pierced the ribs of the two-bladed one. He staggered back.

Cedric kicked his legs out from under him. Then he continued his confused, limped run.

"Elos!" shouted the crossbowman as he jogged over to his ally. Cedric rounded the corner and escaped their view.

"Dammit, Pek!" The man grabbed the bolt and began to pull it. "Aaaaack, it's in there! Fuck! That hurts like hell! Run after him Pek, hurry!"

The crossbowman did as he was ordered and sprinted down the hall after the scruffy-haired boy.

It only took another second before he plucked the bolt out and hissed an impassioned cry of pain. He managed to his feet, and hurriedly chased Pek through Haketh, after their quarry…

Cedric panted. He leaned on the wall for support.

Damn Throkos… gods damn it! No matter how powerful I get, one slip like that can end it all! I can’t get cocky yet. The devices, I need to find the devices!

There was the labeled door, Meitheio. It was a wide, arched double door, not the small one he’d seen in his hallucination. He threw his body against it. Thud.

A tendril grabbed the handle and twisted, dropping him to the floor inside.

Don’t! None of you touch the ley, none of you so much as breathe! We have to…

Footsteps. Someone was approaching. He looked up from the wooden floorboards of the new chamber, looked into the vast, expansive library that stretched miles beyond…

A black robe stepped over him, stepped a fancy shoe down onto his wrist.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Jirtu…

He could see the bulbous, bug-like eyes beneath the hood. The sinister sneer.

“Cedric Castelbre. And you’ve brought the sel with you, here. You’ve destroyed Haketh.”

Jirtu shot a frustrated kick into Cedric’s ribs.

“If you make one false move on those leylines, I’ll kill you.”

“Schematics!” hissed Cedric.

“I’m not giving you a damn thing. Rith'aka Seran.”

A glow surrounded Cedric. His body was rejuvenated immediately.

He stammered, “What…?”

“You’re no good to us dead, are you? And this should dissuade you from pulling the Etherian ley to your whim.”

The door shut behind Cedric.

"Throkos is dead." He was finally able to speak again. He dragged himself up from the ground and brushed off his bloody, torn robes.

"And whose fault is that? Did you really expect your actions to be without consequence?"

He recounted to himself the past few minutes, and all that had happened. "They took Grivonym."

Jirtu's bulging eyes bulged further. Then his face turned into a sour scowl. "I've just remembered how much I hate you. We'll have to get that back, then. As always, you've gone and fucked everything up. Couldn't just die in Freiya, couldn't just stay away from Harth, or Calamon, or…"

"I didn't invite myself to any of this, you bastard. I was content to stay in Dreslon, but now you've all gone and fucked that up—"

"Careful with your choice of words." Jirtu commanded. His eyes began to glow and shift.

"I don't fear these… what are they? Sel?"

"You should. If you cast anything you shouldn't, I'll behead you personally. They're the one weakness of us all, the antithesis, the blah, blah, blah. They'd shut you down, they'd shut down all of my devices, and then they'd slam shut the doors of Haketh forever. Oh, what am I saying; you've already done worse than they could ever have on that front by letting them in here. Now this place will become a playground for infantile adventurers and bastards with too much time on their hands." Jirtu continued to ramble as he walked back into the library. He neared a very large and polished dark oak table where Ivalié was sat with some strange thing atop his head, some glowing, translucent jellyfish.

"What the hell is that?" asked Cedric.

Jirtu smirked sinisterly. "That is a little baby Okella."

"A what?"

Ivalié gasped and sputtered. His eyes were rolled over. The tendrils were deep in his head. Okella walked out from the shadows and approached with a horrified expression.

"Yes, dear! You thought yourself so important, so unique and special and all the rest, but look! You're nothing but a damn slime. Nothing at all, worse than dust because you can cry and weep and moan, and you do, more than any living creature I've ever met!"

Cedric stepped forward with a fist by his side.

"Ah, ah!" Jirtu raised a glowing hand. "I've longed to kill you for some time, now. Don't give me an opportunity you'll regret."

Cedric scoffed and turned away. He looked all across the library, which stretched dark bookshelves miles above them, miles around them, miles in every direction all at once. Some figures milled around the balconies above — brooms, sentient and sweeping about the place. Giant owlmen, perusing the selection. Long, scaly wyverns slid around corners and across the magelight, passing all sorts of other strange creatures on their way.

"This place is a bastion of information for many races, many interplanetary and interdimensional beings. And now, in one slip of your damn egotistical hands, you've ruined it. I've got to be packing up. I should be. But first I've got to make sure Ivalié's project is completed successfully. Only then can I put this pocket dimension away."

"I am so confused." he muttered. "I didn't understand half of what you just said. Interplanetary, inter…"

"Yes, there are many more stars to this realm where many a creature exists. Realms outside the domains of Evra and Azafel, places unreachable by many men, and all Etherians. There are many dimensions as well, laid overtop our own in the same way the pit is. Heaven and hell, and above and below them both, in and around all we see every day. Time, space, and reality all center in this place."

Time, space, and reality. Llestren'vatis, Algirak, and Serkukan.

"Indeed." Jirtu answered Cedric's thoughts. "This is a hub dimension. It is reachable by any who know the way, any who have the will to learn. But only if they pledge themselves to learn everything."

"And that's your goal?"

"Not by far." he said, and sat down beside Ivalié. "Ciera."

A glowing bulb of blue magic appeared in the center of the table. Cedric stepped closer to get a look through it.

There was Throkos, dead in a puddle of dark blood. Then it changed, and showed the two sel rushing through the hallways, chittering in their native tongue all the way.

"They're coming." Jirtu declared. "The door is sealed, but for how long? And I know you'll be no good to hold them off, you Etherian bastard."

"I can fight."

"You and what power?"

"I know magic — well, I know a spell. Lightning."

"Oh, boy. You're more useless to me by the second." He dropped his head onto his hand disinterestedly.

"Well? What are we going to do? Sit here and wait to die?"

Jirtu shrugged. "I can kill a sel or two by myself. You're the only one in danger, and I've no plans of protecting you."

He furrowed his brow. "Maybe you can explain to me then, are we supposed to be allies? Are we collaborating? Working together? Or are we sworn enemies? We fought in Harth, didn't we? You're a member of The Twelve, who seems to want to use me as a weapon, so how am I supposed to interpret that?"

"I really don't care. Rykaedi is the one with a longing for you. Once Stabilis is complete, we'll need you no longer."

"Stabilis?"

Jirtu sighed. "Shit."

Then a thump at the door. Chatter beyond the wall. Jirtu stood and readied a spell in red-hued magic.

"You'd best get back if you want to live. And don't you fucking dare touch Ivalié."

"But—"

KRNNCH!

The door was off. The sel rushed in. And there went Antithesis…

X

"Alright, enough of this nonsense. How can any of you bastards even see? Alai."

Lezat cast a light spell. The gentle bulb floated up from behind his head, illuminating the group. The Sel made grunts and groans of dissatisfaction.

"HARK! You like scouring a map in the pitch black, suit your damn selves! I like to see what I'm doing!"

Ana smiled, "Thanks, Lezat." She looked back to the map on the large stone between them all. "It doesn't add up after all. This tunnel would gain us over a week's time."

"Magic?"

She shook her head.

Eson added, "Perhaps daemon magic. We wouldn't be able to trace it, hence it being called dark magic."

"Yes, yes, thank you for the lecture." Lezat growled. "We should send word back. If that tunnel does have an ending, it could be an invaluable asset in getting the drop on 'em."

Kyvir nodded. "I concur. You've an eye for tactics, Lieutenant. Such an implement could move our timetable up by weeks for our infantry. But I've a better idea — let's send no word back. We'll take the tunnel ourselves and see where it ends up. If we arrive in Calamon, we wait for the first charge at the gates to strike. If outside, we recoup with the nearest camp. Our forward troops should already be near."

"When are they planning to begin?"

"The thirteenth of Locus. They're not going to parley, the battle will begin as soon as they arrive."

"Not going to parley…?" muttered Eson.

"Who would you have them parley with? They're lawless over there. No governments, no kings, no gods. Just petty allegiances, cults, and guilds. It's a miracle they've survived as such for so long. Our forward is led by Captain Leth, a group of Azar acting as cavalry. They'll be pursued by two companies of footmen, totalling three thousand men each."

"Three thousand?" Ana gasped. She tapped her chin in thought.

"That's only the first wave. Alisa has a mighty great military, many men sworn to King Lyros."

"Well, now, we don't need to be overachievers…" murmured Lezat.

"Unfortunately, Lezat, we do."

Ana exclaimed, "You're planning to recreate the last invasion!"

"Successfully, this time. There was no reason Calamon shouldn't have fallen under our rule last time. Our men were led by cowards. Now we have the strength to cleanse their land."

Lezat puckered his lips and sucked his teeth. I don't like the sound of that. "It's been a while. We, uh, haven't heard from Faunia or Eson yet. Percy, Ana — you should armor up, see if you can't find 'em. Take one of our flaresticks, let us know if you'll need us."

The two of them saluted Lezat in a Hunters' salute before realizing their errors, and correcting to a plain palm salute. "Yes, sir. For Alisa."

"For Alisa…" he muttered.

X

Faunia and Eson marched the main road in stride, careful not to look too out of place. The soldiers, however, all appeared just as normal people. They'd tried to speak to a lone one some time ago, but found that their tongue was completely different than Huntish. It was some kind of old language, Faunia reckoned.

"These people are cast out of time…" she said. "This armor looks like… First Era? Second?"

Eson just shrugged his shoulders. He hadn't spoken in a while.

Find the heart. Kill it. I doubt it'd be so simple — we'll be overwhelmed by these men and women without a doubt. There's no chance of us doing anything and making it out alive.

Someone patted Eson on the shoulder. He jumped back and drew his sword.

“Oy!” shouted Ana, standing behind him with her hands raised in surrender.

Percy was beside her. They were both donned in the silver, orange-bannered plate of the Calamonis.

Eson grabbed her by the collar of her armor and drew her close.

“Eson!” shouted Faunia, pulling him back.

“Stop fucking around!” he wheezed. “We’re right in the thick of things, and you come out here damn—”

“Eson, you lunatic! She’s just letting us know she’s here!”

Percy had an expression between fear and frustration. Ana looked surprised, her eyebrows raised.

Eson gave a deep sigh and replaced his blade within its scabbard.

“You’re a bit on edge, no?” asked Ana.

He only scoffed and marched away.

Faunia shrugged. “Sorry. I’ve never seen him like this…”

“You didn’t hear what happened while you were away, then.”

She raised her eyebrows in interest, but their conversation was cut short by the hurrying of soldiers all around. They were all headed down the main road, jogging and sprinting toward the glowing blue light at the end.

“Something’s happening.” said Faunia, “We’ll have to talk later. Quick, follow them!”

Eson joined the three of them in their jog as they passed him, joining the burgeoning clusters of other soldiers growing into a fierce crowd toward the end of the road, where the buildings all fell away into a massive pit surrounded by the glowing blue runes they'd seen from all the way back at the entrance.

They gazed over the precipice.

"Unholy demonic fuck…" Eson cursed.

Percy's armor clattered as he shook and shivered.

Ana gasped and held two hands over her open mouth.

Faunia inhaled sharply, and held the breath.

Deep in the pit. Deep in that hole beneath the world. There lay a creature. Bestial. Inhuman. Scaled and horrid and all the rest.

“De vas Draekon!” cried one of the tanned knights.

Faunia could only gasp beneath her breath: “...dragon!”