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Chapter 27 Ruins of Althea

Valentina’s POV

“This—this is the answer!” Dustin exclaimed. “If we catalog every spell into a book and give it a mana source then we can turn the survivors into capable mages. Then we can focus on rebuilding the tower while they repel the Fytelyn invaders.”

Bronson huffed and Alina scoffed. “We should have listened to Astyia. Now, even if we live, we can’t defend the continent on our own.”

“And what of the Gaia Crystal? How will we take it now?” Idrina added.

“All in due time. We must be patient.”

A soothing warmth left my body and mana began to permeate the area around me. Almost like my eyes were opening, a blurry image slowly took form. It was confusing at first, until I realized I could see in every direction all at once. I wasn’t so much seeing, but sensing the world around me.

Dustin was closest to me, though he lacked a body. All that remained of him was a dull gray gem, no bigger than my fist. It emitted a constant stream of mana that swirled around him, doing its best to maintain a human form, but the flow was unstable.

The others, Alina, Idrina, and Bronson, all appeared in similar forms, though the hue of their mana—and the gem that served as their core—each differed.

Alina was ocean blue and filled with natural and life mana. Her presence was like a soothing breeze that washed over everything with calm. A stark contrast to her violent nature and aggressive tendencies.

Idrina’s heat burned like a forge. Even from several meters away I could feel her smolder. Destructive mana formed her ruby core and ate at everything in her immediate vicinity.

Bronson had the most unstable form, seeming to flicker constantly as yellows and blues battled for dominance in his core.

What had they become? Not mages, not beasts. They weren’t elementals either, but they were certainly each a force capable of matching nature’s power.

Dustin seemed to notice my awareness. He brought me closer, letting his mana rush over my surface like a gentle brush. I felt his mind touch mine, lingering against me for a moment, then he whispered. “Astyia, so you survived as well.”

I couldn’t form words, not in my current state. I could feel my broken body still healing.

“You saved us didn’t you? I knew you would Astyia. My entire plan depended on your success. You see we are now beings of pure mana, if we had been struck before the binding was completed, then the pulse would have destroyed us.”

I was glad. That meant Cel should be alive too. Where was she?

“But…”

I didn’t like the way he said that.

“…you weren’t supposed to survive Astyia. Your idealism is what held us back before and I won’t allow the same to happen again.”

I felt a surge of mana, like a sword plunged through me.

“What are you doing?” Bronson asked. “Didn’t you say we need that thing?”

“No Bronson, you misunderstood me. This is merely the model we must follow. But to do so effectively, we must dismantle it.”

Alina released a bored sigh, then moved away, towards what remained of the tower.

I felt another stabbing pain followed by a tear that made me want to scream as Dustin ripped outward with his mana blades.

Unable to defend myself I pulled away, falling on the ground with my body nearly split in two.

“Dustin!”

Cel’s voice was like a blessing. I could sense her descending from the tower. Her aura was dangerous like an all consuming black hole, but I didn’t fear her. Her core was much more stable than any of the others, although her form felt infinite, like she was everywhere at once.

Dustin reeled back, pausing a moment before lunging forward again.

I forced myself to move again, sliding just past the tip of his blade as it struck the dirt.

“Do not harm her, or I will not hesitate to end you.” Cel commanded as she knelt beside me.

A burst of energy came from Cel, followed by a torrent of pain that left my mind unable to comprehend anything beyond that agony.

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When my senses finally recovered, Cel had me in a cradle of mana, reminiscent of her warm embrace. We were inside the tower, in her observation chamber where she monitored the conflict across the continent. Dustin was nowhere in sight.

“Astyia, is that really…”

I couldn’t respond verbally, but our minds touched and that was enough to confirm.

“You did it, Asty. You—you actually did it.” Her voice lacked the expected enthusiasm. Instead I felt a mix of joy and sadness.

In that moment, she felt more distant than the stars, despite our physical closeness.

She cradled me in a blanket of mana and I felt her warm presence as she touched me, sensing every part of me. I could tell she was searching for my core. She probably wanted to make me something like her, but that would never happen. My core was gone.

Finally healed enough to speak, I said, “Cel…it’s okay.”

She pulled back staring at me as her mana receded into her core.

I wished at that moment that I could take human form, that I could hug her back, but all I could do was remind her… “I chose this Cel, it was my decision. And it allowed me to protect you and the others, but Cel… Dustin, he—”

“Cel, they’re coming again. We can’t stop them all without you.” Bronson paused as his focus settled on me. His gaze lingered for several moments, rolling over me like an invasive caress before Cel sent him away with a simple glare.

“Dustin is trying to protect us,” Cel said. “Since the pulse, it’s been non stop. They are intent to wipe out every Althean.” Her voice trembled with rage, then settled into a more somber quiver as she added, “they’ll soon reach the tower, but now that you’re here, I’m sure we’ll find a solution.”

I tried to warn Dustin before. Brute strength would not win the war, it would only steel our enemies against us. But he was sure that a show of power would convince Feytlyn to surrender. It was his hubris that brought this on us and if the others didn’t start listening to me, it would be his folly that ended us.

“I can help, Cel… but not in the way that you might think. We have to stop Dustin or we will—”

Cel held out a finger as she silenced me with a soft but commanding, “Stop Asty. We need both of you; Dustin’s experience in battle and your wisdom will both be necessary to win this war.”

“Okay,” I whispered.

The jaws of defeat gnawed at my heart. If she truly acknowledged my wisdom then why wouldn’t she head my council? Why did she doubt me at every turn, deferring to Dustin and his “experience…”

“I’ll be back Asty, I have to help the others. You should use this room to observe the conflict. You might understand once you see. Our enemies are savages. They won’t see reason no matter how hard you try to make them.”

I didn’t bother refuting her. I didn’t need to observe to know how zealous the Feytlyn army had become. Even using the mana detonator was a brutal move that no sane commander, let alone general, would allow. But what choice did they have? Dustin gave them a clear ultimatum when he dropped the dust reactor on their capitol.

He filled the lungs of every person in the city with dust, leaving only a brief window in which anyone could be saved. Most probably perished in the attack, but it was his device that gave them the blueprint for their detonator. It was his message—surrender or die—that gave them the motivation to use it. Why did Cel not see that? Why could no one but me see?

I watched through the glass as she descended from the tower. The landscape below was barren, save a few scattered survivors huddling together around a makeshift camp. The once proud towers, soaring high above the land in every direction, had crumbled leaving only their bases, like pillars supporting a darkening sky. The fields, rivers, and forests of Althea were gone. Even the clouds and the winds had fallen still. It was like a painting of our once beautiful land, or a scene from a nightmare, a nightmare I refused to give in to.

We had a chance to stop the bloodshed. But with each battle it slipped further from our grasp. I needed to act, and it had to be fast.

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Dexter’s POV

In an alley beside Ravenor I pulled Valentina from my pouch. Her cover was darker than before with a scar across its surface that looked as if someone had tried cutting her in half, but stopped two inches short.

She was warm to the touch, like holding a pot of boiling water, but still unresponsive.

I tried calling her twice, but there was no response. When I opened her pages, many were black with ink, like when she leaned the spells from Amhir. Runes I couldn’t read formed on her pages only to fade away again, replaced by yet more nonsensical runes.

They weren’t spells, of that I felt sure, but they must’ve had something to do with why she was like this.

A small sting and the taste of iron told me I'd bitten my lip a little too hard. Relaxing my jaw, I clicked my tongue in frustration.

The librarian’s note seemed a clear message that she wouldn’t help me, but maybe the girl from before would.

I started down the alley, my stomach bubbling with anxiety. I wanted to help Val—no I needed to—but was this really the best way? I wasn’t so sure. Just the thought of that strange girl sent tingles down my spine, tingles that screamed ‘stay the hell away!’

No. The library wasn’t the place I should go.

Valentina trembled in my hands, floating out of my grasp then personifying before me.

She looked…different. Her hair was more pink and her eyes more fierce. Her clothes were different too. Instead of a dress, she wore a tight blouse and combat pants with a jacket that looked as though it were made of nebulite. It had white fur over the shoulders and around the collar.

The material couldn’t have actually been the same metal used to make points. It was too light, too fluid, too—too much like fabric and not at all like metal.

Valentina smiled, letting her hand slide along her chest, then up along her neck before finally tracing her lips. She reached out towards me, whispering, “Dexter,” with her warm, smooth voice and her sultry stare.

We both stepped forward into each other's arms, her soft hands wrapped around my back, holding me against her body. Her fingers sent shivers over my spine as she ran a hand up my back, stopping at the base of my neck.

I squeezed her tight, soaking in her warmth and smell. Her aroma was so sweet, like fresh apples and vanilla. My heart was at ease and my stomach settled; the world was alright again. Valentina was fine, better than fine maybe—she seemed more confident, more capable.