43.

Messenger

They took to a place that few knew existed, down a dark tunnel, through a cramped stairwell that reeked of must and dessication: the dungeons 'neath Calamon, under the museum where Haketh had once been. Through a painting's hidden passage they'd led the prisoners, filed them into cages with ten to twenty men each, still with ample space to move around, no restraints, no torture, no deprivation.

Marisol had ensured that they'd be treated appropriately, with dignity and respect. They were well fed by the chefs who had joined the Hunters, taken care of by their medics and carers as well. They refused healing by magic. They refused any magic be used at all, and Marisol complied.

They still snarled and shouted profanities and curses when the Hunters marched in with blue magelight bulbs in their hands, but they had found a lacking of candles in the dungeon, a lacking of candles all throughout the museum.

And Faunia Vleren nor Cedric Castelbre cared enough to go out of their way to find them.

Marisol led the pack through the tunnel. It was four silver-clad guards who accompanied them in clatters of metal footfalls. They held long pikes, each uniform strictly matching the next. Order. Even their marched pace was possessed with order, control, pattern. Azafel was absent from these corridors, from these soldiers, from all except the ravenous animals and alisars in their cages. Animals still treated with utmost respect.

Cedric stopped walking at one cell which held five purple-skinned soldiers who were not yelling quite so voraciously as the rest. They were quiet, idle, sat upon the floor and stood by the walls, away from the bars. He approached them to scornful glares. Hateful gazes.

"Hello," he said.

They did not answer. Faunia approached to his side.

"My name is Cedric. I led the defensive against you, for the most part. Well, that's…" He gave careful glances between his friends and allies. "What's the price of your loyalty?"

"Fuck you!" one of them spat. "And fuck your whore woman, too! Vleren, sokah, deth!"

His lips shifted in bemusement.

"Slave driver! Fuckers, you lot!"

"It was worth a try." He shrugged and continued on. Faunia gave him a curious look to which he sighed, "There was a schematic, something we found in Haketh… Well, it's not worth thinking about. I should forget I ever saw it."

"You breached Haketh after all?"

He gave a meager nod. That was the only answer he had.

It wasn't long before they came to the cell at the end, where a plump, white-bearded man sat in a dark robe. Four men of varied skin colors surrounded him in dark plainclothes. He looked up with a hopeful glance as they approached.

"You'll be the one, then! King Lorik, was it?"

Cedric recoiled. "How do you know that name?"

"Why, that's the name the king told me; you are Lorik, yes?"

He hesitated. "Yes. Yes, my name was once Lorik."

"Then we have an understanding! I am Rosgir, emissary of the High King."

"And your king would be?"

Faunia answered, "King Sylvus the Third. He's a man of human blood. He's ruled for seventy years, since he was ten."

The messenger shook his head. "Sylvus is dead, since one-eighty-seven. Died of natural causes. He's since been replaced by the queen's new husband, a Teller by the name of Heji Thatiek, from the Jinn. Well, now he's Heji Aeon the First."

"From the Jinn?" Faunia rubbed her chin in thought. "He's not of noble blood, then. I wonder why they've married?"

"Certainly not for his land…" Cedric thought aloud. "He's a Teller, you said?"

"Quite! A man of no renown until now, yet he's a Teller! Always in the right place at the right time. Perhaps he just happened to arrive in time to make the queen's acquaintance, and she fell head over heels for him! That's how the story goes, at least."

Faunia pouted as though dissatisfied with the theory.

"They'd like to meet you, Lorik. Heji asked for you most specifically. Said you'd come around urgently, should he ask."

"We've no business in Aeon, Cedric." said Faunia.

He thought about it. "What does he want to discuss?"

The man said, "Calamity, most like. And diplomacy with Calamon, should it be possible."

"Diplomacy? Certainly less forward than Alisa in their efforts."

The man nodded twice enthusiastically. "Then, we'll have it? You'll go to Aeon?"

Faunia pulled Cedric aside suddenly. There was no getting out of earshot, but she at least made an effort. "Cedric, my time in Alisa… it was a waste. I should never have departed from here, I shouldn't have left you alone to face The Twelve. I failed, Cedric. I wanted to stop the war, but I practically joined with them. I…"

"I had little progress here, as well. The whole time I wondered whether I'd have been better off pursuing you. But now we're together. We're stronger this way. And we have no other leads, anyway."

"What about Rykaedi? Kogar?"

He shook his head. "Rykaedi is on our side. Most of the Twelve are, if somewhat misguided in their morals. They'll protect Calamon while we're gone."

Then her brow furrowed. "Why?"

"Calamon is where she's hiding. Evra is here."

Faunia's eyebrows raised in alarm.

"At least, that's my suspicion. She won't confirm nor deny. And besides, we have no way to pursue them at present. I think this can be a valuable opportunity while we have the breathing room to afford it. And, better yet if we can get there before Kogar. Maybe that schematic will come in handy after all."

She didn't fully understand, but Cedric walked away before she could ask any more questions.

"Alright, Rosgir. We'll take up this task. Me and two squads of my men will protect you and yours on the route to Aeon. We'll bring gifts."

The man lit up in a bright smile. "Good! Good, because I was starting to wonder if I'd ever have a way home with the war having started. But, you do not appear as described; I was told to find a wartime king in a dire place. Not only do I get an air of excessive mercy, but it seems that things are not quite so dire here as I was led to believe."

Cedric nodded. He went to say something else before Marisol chimed enthusiastically, "I'll fetch some carriages for the next sunrise."

And so their course was set again.

X

There they sat; Faunia Vleren sat across from Cedric Castelbre, each on sofas that were far less comfortable than they appeared, in an ornate hall with tiled floors and wide halls of marble.

Faunia did not appear as uncomfortable as Cedric, however, who looked as though the entire weight of the war was solely upon his shoulders.

He finally slipped out of his forward hunch with an eager yawn, sat back to lay his eyes upon Faunia.

"Things did not go so well in Alisa, I surmise."

She pouted slightly, turned to the open window longingly. There was dense foliage in the other side, all artificial, all made by Calamonis in decades past. There was still a twittering of birds outside. Still so far from the dead of winter.

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"We should be lucky they didn't wait." mused Faunia. "We'd have been well damned to fight in the winter."

But Cedric didn't have it in him to consider it. "Was Kogar there?"

Her pout grew. Then she feigned a smile. "How'd you know?"

"I felt Calamity again. That horrible, horrible rending at the barrier. It's unmistakable. What happened?"

Her smile died again. And then she opened her mouth to speak…

Kyvir slumped to the ground.

Percy collapsed with one last desperate gasp before he succumbed to his crushed larynx.

Then it was silent.

But not for long.

The clicking of Kogar's heels echoed through the dark amphitheater through the shattered double doors. He marched on, slowly. Decisively.

Click.

Click.

Click.

Then came Lyros, the big cat. He spun his scimitar as he rushed, right over Kogar's head.

Kogar could only dodge. There was no Etherium, no esera. No way to attack—

But the squelching sound in Lyros' chest told a different story.

The cat stumbled back, clamping his torn robes with one hand, holding his scimitar out with the other.

Kogar continued to march forward.

"Let me elaborate something you haven't seemed to understand."

Vindicus squirmed in the darkness, sequestered toward the back of the room.

"I don't need any power to kill you. A god relies on nothing but his own will. A god does not face questions of if, how, or why, and does not fear men of any nature, of any race, of any cult or creed. A god knows no limits, no life, no death. I am here, at present, and I am nowhere." He clicked his tongue, dissatisfied. "Let me try once more: I have lived from time innumerable. I do not know time. I have died and walked the deadworld. I do not know life. I have called myself back from the void, lived a thousand lives. I do not know death. You call me Kogar. I do not know names. You may call me God."

Lyros was nearly to the stage at the far end of the room, backpedaling from the two-tone god approaching him.

Vindicus stepped forward with a fierce, harrowing cry.

Kogar's eyes darted over. There was a horrible click, then a spray of blood.

He… didn't even move…

Faunia lay on the floor outside the chamber, shuddering, slick with the blood from her nose, the bile from her stomach. She looked at her shattered rapier.

Then she looked down to her sniveling reflection in the floor. Her stomach still ached. Her nose was bitter with endless, screaming pain.

She took a deep breath, clutched her fingers tight around her hilt.

"Giving up, Faunia?" asked a cool, refreshing voice, like a seabreeze.

Faunia looked up. There was the straw-hat chauffeur. His pale face had a disinterested, meandering smile.

“I’ve delivered you here. I’ve given you a chance.”

“A chance? A fucking chance, no Etherians, no powers, no magic! This is no chance, you’re asking me to kill myself!”

“Is that not what you were just thinking of doing?”

She looked away.

It's over anyway…

She gritted her teeth. Finally, she began to her feet. She released a long, agonized hiss of pain. Not even the adrenaline was holding back her aching stomach, the shifting of her broken nose. “I am not wont to surrender.”

“Good. Because I didn’t bring you here for nothing, you know.”

"Am I meant to fight? Well, fortune-teller?"

He shrugged. "It would be a shame to spoil your fate. That's something you must decide for yourself."

No esera. Nothing. I'm all alone.

She thought of Tirolith. Then Marisol. Then Cedric.

I do this for them. I do this for Caloria, for the Hunters.

And she stepped into the cool chamber beyond.

Kogar uttered the fated words, "This will be the final time I ask you to surrender your kingdom, Lyros. And then—"

There was a thud. Then a dull spike pulled the flesh of Kogar's throat taut, ripped violently through the front with a spray of darkened blood.

Faunia had thrown herself at the man, grappled hard to his huge back, and crammed her broken rapier right through his skin. Right through his arteries, she hoped.

But he turned around just as eagerly. He spun his fist for Faunia's gut.

She released him and dropped low, pulled the rapier down with her. The fist whizzed past her, gaining her another opening. There went her rapier, jamming into the flesh of his cheek. It was just barely sharp enough to draw blood.

Yes! She grinned, her eyebrows flared, she put her footing forward and shoved as hard as she could.

And then her rapier vanished. She felt it — some gentle press upon the invisible ley, some dull prodding in the back of her mind. Even without Tirolith, his prodding was strong enough for her to notice it naturally.

Then his hand came up and rammed against her throat, swept her from her feet.

The ley was still throbbing in the back of her mind. She could feel it, could almost manipulate it…

Then went his fist. But a spectral aura split the air between them, deflected the blow, sliced around his wrist and shot the two-tone god's blood like a fine mist into the chamber.

His face contorted again in pain; Lyros plunged his scimitar through Kogar's armor, deep into the fat of his side. His lip quivered, a look far too unbecoming of a god.

Lyros only managed one look of stalwarcism before his eyes bulged. Blood splattered upward, his body dropped down. Kogar hadn't even moved to kill him.

Faunia stumbled away, her mouth agape.

Kogar took one step. Then went his silent attack.

But she felt the trickle, felt the subtle hairs on her arms stand up, felt the back of her neck become frigid.

And she channeled that same strange energy that had allowed herself to deflect his attack the first time.

The ley grew quiet.

Kogar's eyes were wrought with fury. "How did you do that?"

"I… I don't know!" her voice shuddered, half with fear and half with ecstasy. She prodded at the ley, gentle but expectant. She needed something more, something fierce. She clenched her eyes shut.

Kogar uttered, "Tartys, I tire of these mortal games. Tear this place apart."

She opened her eyes. The ley grew thick and horrible. The air blackened. The whole world began to rumble.

And then all of the windows of the chamber shattered inward. Kogar became their black hole.

Faunia placed her teacup down. Her hand was still shaking. She placed her other hand over it, placed both of them in her lap.

"I couldn't stop him. But I could feel that energy."

"You're talking about Dyosius, I assume. It's becoming more common for people to recognize its power. Three people have come forward since this war began with exceptional survivability, exceptional pursuit of their goals and missions. One of them is acquainted with the ex-Lluevi heir, if you're interested."

"A prince?" she gawked. "But who are these people?”

“Soldiers. Tiana, Tyverius, and Copper. They’re… my Etherian Knights.”

“Etherian Knights?” Her eyebrows flared. “You’re sending us back in time to the Etherian Age, aren’t you?”

“No.” Cedric stood, began to pace beside the coffee table partition. “No, I’m not. But we would have been wiped out here without Rykaedi. Without the others’ help, too, no doubt. We barely had a thousand under our own command to defend these people, we needed Etherian powers. That can no longer be denied, Faunia.”

Her face grew dour.

“Faunia; since all of this began, we’ve agreed that the Etherians should be used as tools. We should control them. What else are we to do? Destroy them? Then we succumb Calamon to those who call themselves gods. Without Serkukan, it’s likely that Kogar and Rykaedi would have set about a worse fate for this world. Without Llestren’vatis to guide me, I wouldn’t be here to take your side. They are pertinent to the time. The Etherian Age did not end because of Algirak’s collapsing the council, nor did it end because Alisa killed Kasian. It never ended; they’re still here. And we need them.”

“But to drag other people into this plight…”

“They’ll keep their eyes on the city while we’re away.”

“And what if one of them grows mad with power? What if one of them is possessed, loses control of their Etherian?”

“Then we have two others to subdue them.”

Faunia bit her lip. “I can only pray that you are correct.”

Then Cedric circled the coffee table, cleared the distance between them. He knelt before her and took her hands into his own. “Faunia. Please. If ever I’ve needed your confidence, I need it now.”

Her lip shuddered slightly and then stopped. Her face felt warm, that close to him.

And then the door to the chamber swung open.

“Ahhh, that’s better!” chimed Rosgir as he entered in a lavish robe of white and gold. Golden guards marched in stride on either side of him, he held his hands out in welcome. “So; who’s prepared to welcome the road?”