It was strange, how mortals gathered information. They combed through massive books and interviewed strangers, friends, and colleagues alike. This method of research reminded Echo much of how she learned from Elzio. All information was exchanged through word of mouth or eyes on paper. They lack the intuitive knowledge that the nexi held.

Elzio and Syrene did fret rather extensively over the investigation. According to Elzio, once they left the city, their ability to learn more information about those involved in the grand conspiracy would drop rather dramatically, so all knowledge gathering had to happen before then.

By the time the three were ready to leave, Elzio and Syrene were saddled with a great number of books and scrolls, as their brains were limited in capacity and struggled with recall. Another peculiarity. Echo secretly theorized that their penchant for emotions may color what elements their brains prioritized to remember. After all, Elzio might recall a story flawlessly from his childhood, many years ago, and yet would struggle to recite a page from a book he read a scant week ago.

Echo spent much of their travel contemplating mortals and their brains, while Elzio and Syrene road atop two horses, discussing how they would approach Ythrel, how they would plea their case. It would be far from easy. The Ythrel nexus was a fearful one. Amos his name was. In life he had feared death, and thus he cheated it. He stole a core of life and reincarnated back to his people, who embraced him with adoration.

Amos had devoured enough echos and a few other neighboring nexi to reach his level 7, where he had stagnated for some time, unwilling to grow larger, lest others see him as a threat. Echo knew most of this intrinsicly, and she had shared it with Elzio and Syrene.

“We just need to make it clear how at risk they are,” Syrene said. “Play on those anxieties.”

“Amos will balk if we imply he’s cowardly.” Elzio sounded deep in thought. “Or at least his heroes will. They worship him, same as any nexus. We need to impress upon him the danger without offending his heroes’ sense of honor.”

“And that’s all assuming we can’t get a private audience.” Syrene’s back was to Echo, but Echo could still hear the tightening of the mage’s lips, the way they turned down. “Which they won’t grant if we’re accompanied by a nexus. They’ll sense a trap.”

“We don’t have to be that pessimistic from the start,” Elzio said. “We should plan as though they’ll refuse, but there’s a chance that Echo’s presence is enough to take them off guard.” He glanced over his shoulder, and flashed her a smile from the back of his horse. Echo could not respond with the smile, nor was she sure she would have, but she did intensify her glow to acknowledge the gesture.

‘Elzio is right, Echo said. ‘Plan for all potentials and prepare to dismiss all plans as everything unfolds. We cannot say for sure what will happen.’

—

Despite his rebuttal of Syrene’s pessimism, Elzio did not expect to be granted a direct audience with Amos, and not one so soon after their arrival in the capital. Barely had they left their request with the overseeing chairperson, when they were given a message that Amos would see them at dawn. The great nexus would be accompanied only by the Council.

Syrene confessed her misgivings about this as soon as they were sufficiently out of earshot of any in the city.

“A private audience is already suspicious,” she said. The three gathered around their small campsite just outside the city walls. They were eager to take a rest after so many days of travel, but anxious at how fast things had progressed in the city. “But allowing us an audience so soon? And so early in the day? That isn’t a good sign.”

Elzio agreed, but they couldn’t turn down the summons. Amos had flipped the script on them, forcing them into a newly compromised position. It was so irritating that Elzio actually contemplated the idea of ignoring the call, how it would probably deliver a shock to Amos were they to avoid the audience they’d so brazenly asked for. But outside of shock, they would gain nothing. It would be an immature move, our of spite.

No, they had to go.

“I understand your concern,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “An early morning audience means that they don’t plan on doing much with whatever we’re here to discuss. Whatever they think we’re here for, they don’t think it’ll disrupt their day, and that worries me.”

From the twist of Syrene’s lips, Elzio could tell she agreed with him. “We have to ask the question. I know you’ve already considered it.”

Elzio couldn’t bite back a sigh at this. “Difficult. Doable? Maybe. With just the two of us, though, we’d be at a huge disadvantage. We’d need an edge.”

The question. The question both he and Syrene hadn’t voice out loud out of fear of jinxing their mission.

If Ythrel challenged, them, could they take him down?

“We should have sought out another hero from Pyrthet,” Syrene said. She flashed Elzio a wry grin before he could open his mouth to dispute her suggestion, and he settled back down, content it had only been a joke.

There had been no allies to be found in Pyrthet, not after destroying their nexus. The heroes that now stood without a commanding nexus, the people who now stood without a core to protect them, all people who knew of Sir Thomas’s treachery, and among them, not a single person had stepped forward to aid Elzio’s caught beyond Syrene herself.

They were too afraid. Too angry. Too hurt or betrayed. They were in shock, in denial, in mourning. Elzio could have taken advantage of that, tried to use their tumultuous emotions to urge them forward, urge them to join him, but to what end? The goal hadn’t been to attack Ythrel, so whipping them up in anger would only cause misplaced emotions. Using knee jerk emotions was risky anyway. Not when their true emotions were so uncertain, not when their anger still somewhat lay with Elzio.

Who knows how their feelings may settle once they’d had a few days to meditate on what had happened?

Besides, as Syrene had said many times, it wasn’t right to abuse the emotions of others. Use them if motives aligned, yes, but abuse or manipulate? That was wrong.

This was always the last sort of thing Elzio thought of, but it was always the one that hit hardest. He still couldn’t shake the image of Peter, beaten and trembling after Elzio had manipulated Nance and the others into thinking the boy had been a traitor. Even after the scars had faded, Peter would be left with the lifelong shame that his position on the team had caused the Pyrthet nexus to fall. Mental scars that might never fade.

Elzio had to remember the human factor. It was too easy to forget in a moment and too easy to damage forever. It was just one of the reasons he was grateful for Syrene’s presence.

“Without another hero, it would be difficult to win,” Elzio said, prodding the fire with a bit more gloom in his gesture than he needed. He shifted to face Echo, who had been quiet since they returned. “If you summoned a hero, what would be the odds they’d fight for us?”

Any guarantees of hero safety in the case of death are gone, she said. The heroes of the losing nexus will risk permanent death. If I summon a hero, they will fight for us out of fear and desperation. They will just be expensive and untrained and afraid.

“Untrained?” Syrene asked, pausing from where she’d been halfway through preparing dinner. “What’s the highest level you could summon?”

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Untrained in the strategic sense, Echo corrected. They would be accustomed to taking orders, not thinking tactically. Most mortals excel at being told what to do. You would get a glorified minion to order about. She sounded particularly displeased at the idea, and Elzio bristled.

“You’d rather lose a fight?” he asked.

I would rather we not fight at all.

“Well we’re not going to accept an issued challenge,” Syrene said, placing down a plate before Elzio. “So he’ll have to use up a decent amount of points to trap us in.”

“Which helps,” Elzio said. But he still sensed Echo was uneasy, and he didn’t blame her. She would probably prefer to be flitting among the woods, avoiding attention for as long as possible, than being brought into the lair of a much larger nexus. She could have just as easily stayed in Pyrthet and enjoyed a few extra months of life, which was a significant amount of time to a being only a few weeks old. “Look, we don’t want to die either, Echo. We’re going to find a way to survive this. If we sat around and did nothing—”

I was in that meeting too, Elzio. I know why we are here.

“We’ll have time too,” Syrene said. “Don’t discount that. We could find someone who wants to volunteer.”

Or we could flee.

Both spoke with the same amount of conviction. Both options were impossible. The optimism they’d once felt at the idea of getting a direct audience had been resounded extinguished, replaced by unease and dissatisfaction.

Tomorrow would be a telling day, one way or another.

—

Amos would most certainly fight them.

Echo had not been sure of this when the summons were first issued, but now she was certain of it. Walking through the quiet dawn, the streets bare of even the earliest morning traders, she was certain of it. Passing by shuttered windows, even as the first light of dawn kissed the shingled roofs, she was certain of it. Stepping through the castle with a six man guard, flanking the three on all sides, the halls otherwise vacant, Echo wondered how she had ever considered that this day would end in anything but a challenge.

Nexi did not work with one another. Elzio, Syrene, and even Echo had hoped that the unusual nature of their case, the warning, the danger would be enough to stir curiosity, and with all fairness to the strategy, it had. But even should Amos hear them out and believe their claims, that Irona of Deluuth was planning an attack, why should he do anything but consume Echo and her heroes? The potential level up he would win from such a battle would not save him against the might of Deluuth, but even with fear and wisdom suggesting an alliance would be stronger, the greed of nexi knew no limit.

This Echo was also sure of.

The oaken doors leading to the grand hall swung open as the six guards flowed forward, ensuring that none of their guests could make any suspicious moves. As if Elzio or Syrene would coordinate an attack, with all the strength of Ythrel’s defensive forces.

Echo supposed they had to keep up appearances.

At the end of the hall, affixed to an ornate structure of electricity and mana, sat Amos, the Nexus of Ythrel. There was a weight to the nexus that Echo lacked. Perhaps it was her level, perhaps it was the anchor he, a reincarnated mortal, enjoyed that she would never know. There was something almost solid in the massive vortex of energy.

Beneath the structure were five thrones, each occupied by a mortal councilor. They looked pale and wan below the impressive display.

Amos wanted everyone to know his power. Even his own council.

Syrene and Elzio fell to their knees, a sign of respect and fealty that made Echo bristle. They came to Ythrel with an offer of information and alliance, they came with a wealth of knowledge without which Ythrel would die. Yet here they knelt, begging permission to even offer it forward.

“Speak, Master Syrene Wispwater of Pyrthet,” commanded one of the councilors. “You have brought us quite the unusual proposal.”

Syrene looked up, still on her knees, at the speaker. “Yes,” she said. “I come before you, along with Elzio Shilon to propose a treaty between you, the Nexus of Ythrel, and the nexus which we serve. We know without a shadow of doubt that Deluuth, to our north, conspires to eliminate all non aligned nations from the continent. They have already destroyed the Argeny Nexus and assumed their lands into Deluuth’s ever expanding grasp. Along with Genyl, we are all that stands between Deluuth and their ultimate goal. We beg you to consider our words.”

A murmur fell among the councilors as they discussed. They wasted no time in formalities, instead putting their heads together and speaking frankly between each other. Perhaps there was hope after all. Syrene’s tidings seemed to stir something within them, something urgent. They had not, after all, expected this. Only a potential alliance.

After several long minutes, the five broke apart. Two bore troubled expressions, a wizened woman who stared ahead at the three visitors, eyes distant and glassy, and a younger man who sent frequent furtive glances at the remaining counselors.

The eldest, a man sitting in the middle, looked weary but resolved. To his left, a hard jawed man sat, fists gripped in a show of anger or of temper. To his right, a smug woman with a twisted smile looked between Elzio and Syrene.

Echo’s energy flagged as she took in the expressions. It had come to a nearly split vote, but the second woman, the one whose dark eyes hung hungrily over their visitors, she had swung the decision. She and the wrathful man sitting opposite her had swayed the opinion of the elder. Was this woman looking out for her nexus and city, or had she too been paid a visit by the generous pockets of Deluuth agents? Sir Thomas had said there were agents in all cities.

“Your warning comes to us at a most interesting time,” spoke the eldest, his voice quavering as he did. He looked to his left before looking behind him, eyes reflecting the light of his nexus. “For only a short while has passed since you, Elzio Shilon, betrayed your own nexus and city to follow this abomination.” The man turned to look fully at the trio. “How are we to respond to the pleas of a traitor?”

“Sir.” Elzio drew himself up, voice even, though Echo could feel how this accusation sparked rage in him. “Our battle with the Pyrthet Nexus was not born out of desire for power, nor did it rise from enmity. It was out of self defense that I separated myself from my heroic duties, as I knew agents from Deluuth had infiltrated our board of counselors and conspired to feed the Pyrthet Nexus directly to Deluuth! For my safety, I had to flee. But for the safety of Pyrthet, and the people there, I returned. Not to kill my old nexus, but to unseat the traitor Sir Thomas Kiernan. To unroot the corruption that threatened everyone within. To put down my foot as an obstacle, standing in the way of Deluuth, of Queen Iverna, of Irona. That’s why we’ve come here. We can’t fight her alone.”

“And what then, when our fight concludes, mmm?” The smug faced woman leaned in. “What then, little echo? Will you flit back to the woods? Will you return to Pyrthet? Or will you attempt to claim some part of Deluuth for yourself?”

“Such a thing has never occurred.” The other counselor, the angry man, all but spat the words. “Two nexi working together. Preposterous.”

“We worry,” the woman said, placing a placating hand on the man’s shoulder, even as her own smirk widened, “that you will attempt to absorb the post-battle nexus buff on your own and use it to oust us entirely from both Ythrel and Deluuth. There is no precedent for two nexi sharing it.”

“You’ll take the buff and immediately challenge us!” the man said, lip curling in a snarl. “This is an obvious trick, and one we will not fall for. There is no way to validate any of the ‘facts’ you have shared!”

“They may be correct in their claims that Argeny has fallen.” The young man, the one displeased with the current decision, steepled his fingers. “I have been saying for weeks that regular communication with their cities have been… quiet. What word has come has been heavily censored, even you’ve noticed this, Danyien.”

The old man waved this down. “Yes, but to claim that is a sign the entire kingdom has fallen?”

“Well why not?” The younger man grew agitated. “We’ve known something has been brewing, something—”

“It has not fallen,” hissed the smug woman.

‘Enough.’

This command did not come from a counselor, nor did it come from a Pyrthetian. The primal rumble that shook through the hall came from Amos himself. From the nexus.

‘You enter my hall and present me with lies and deception in the vain attempt to lower my guard. You stand before me now, speaking falsehoods that fall from your lips like withered petals. No, your mission has been naught but a fool’s errand, for I will not hear any further words from you. My councilors assure me that your claims are as false as are your promises of peace. We will not ally with you.’

A chilling silence followed this, and had Echo any breath, she would have held it. Amos was not done. He was just waiting.

When he finally spoke, it was the words she had expected. ‘Your quest ends only in death.’

Elzio’s knuckles whitened and Syrene bowed her head.

‘I issue a challenge to the pathetic echo that stands before me. Attempt to flee if you will, your heroes pose no threat to me, and I will spare no effort in locking you into combat. Coming here was a mistake for you indeed. No nexus may enter my city save to face me in mortal combat. I shall see you at tomorrow’s twilight.’

Echo did not respond. She simply turned to leave. This would not be the place to speak the words that swirled within her. This would not be were she unleashed her fury.

That would come tomorrow.