Rieren was taken to a little office not far from the site of the battle. The Clanmistress didn’t pay much attention to how her home had been ruined. She walked over the debris, ignored the missing furniture, and didn’t even glance at the corpse or the destruction all around. Rieren could sympathize. They had more important matters to discuss.

The office was a sparse room. It was clear that it didn’t get much attention. A small table with two chairs, one behind and one in front, was all it contained. Though, they were both ornate and opulent as an Archnoble’s possessions tended to be.

“Are you we—” Avathene had likely been about to ask after Rieren’s condition, but upon taking a closer look now that they had some light, she paused. “You look far better already.”

Rieren sat down on the other chair after the Clanmistress had taken the other one. No one really cared if Gorint Malloh had to stand or not. It wasn’t like that would have removed the near-permanent scowl on his face.

“Thank you,” Rieren said.

“That was not a compliment.”

“I took it as such, Clanmistress.” Rieren leaned forward over the table. “Do you know what has happened Lord Mercion and Silomene?”

Where Rieren had leaned forward, Avathene rested her back deeper into her plusher chair. “I am afraid not. Especially not about the Tarciel girl. Mercion can be found more easily, I hope. But I am concerned about the chain of events that led you here.”

“That is your main concern?”

“Yes. Explain your side of the events please, Rieren.”

Rieren sat back on her chair too. If she was going to have to tell a story, she might as well relax. Maybe that was why the Clanmistress had taken up a relaxed posture from the beginning. “I can explain the whole tale, I think.”

“Go on, then.”

“Lord Mercion discovered the threat posed by the Clanmasters’ conspiracy and attempted to stop them himself. However, he was confronted by Yonvig, who must have tried to dispose of him, while Mavolen attempted to assassinate you. However, that led to the chain of events that might have saved your life, Clanmistress.

“After all, with Mercion unavailable, his brother had to personally attend to reinforcing the frontier against the invaders. This had called you away just in time to not meet Mavolen. My presence is simply because Mercion’s disappearance caused Silomene to come to me for help. She was unfortunately captured by Mavolen’s followers. I admit I am uncertain of Malloh’s role.”

She threw a questioning look over to the grim man standing at the corner of the little office. At a look from the Clanmistress, he cleared his throat.

“I had been aware that there were tensions boiling up for a while now,” he said.

“But you failed to mention it to anyone?” Avathene asked with a false neutrality.

Malloh grimaced. “I thought I could extinguish it. I didn’t want to raise the Clanmaster’s ire, and I hadn’t suspected that their rebelliousness would have grown to such proportions that they would consider murdering their own scions.”

His face twisted. There was obviously more he wished to say, but Rieren suspected that it would all have been a diatribe against cultivators who could so be blinded by their thirst for power that they would consider filicide.

That kind of talk was expected from someone who wasn’t from a cultivator’s background. It would have been unfathomable for Rieren too in the last timeline. But she had seen a great deal in her previous life, had a learned a lot about the ways of the world. Forget surprising, all of this was expected to a good degree.

“How did you learn when to arrive?” Rieren asked. “I admit I would have had much greater difficulty in executing our little plan without your help.”

“You mean you would have ended up dead,” Malloh said.

She shrugged. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. Who is to say. But that does not answer my question.”

“Answer her, Gorint,” Avathene said.

Malloh cleared his throat. “I have been keeping tabs on the little group for a while. When I noticed that the former Ordorian Clanmaster was headed to the residence of the Stannerig Clanmistress under the cover of darkness, my suspicions grew quite sharp. So I followed and arrived and acted as soon as I sensed Essence being used.”

“After they carted off Silomene.”

“I did not see where they took her. I had to ensure the Clanmistress’s safety first. You ought to be thankful that I found you when I did.”

He had her there. There had been no time for them to be concerned about Silomene when they had been trying to survive against not one but two former heads of Archnoble clans. That they had both come out of it relatively unscathed spoke volumes of their good fortune.

And—Rieren reflected with a shake of her head she kept to herself—with a good deal of decent teamwork as well.

Rieren began getting up from the chair. “I need to find Silomene.”

“We have not finished our discussion,” the Clanmistress said.

Gorint Malloh moved behind her as though to block her exit. The room suddenly turned a good degree hostile. Rieren stood stock still for a good while, letting the discomfort sink in. She hadn’t decided to act antagonistically.

“Is this how you treat someone who intended to help you?” Rieren asked.

The Clanmistress rubbed a hand across her forehead again. She looked tired. Worn out after the night’s events. For someone who had just been betrayed by her own father, who had barely survived being killed, who had seen her husband disappear to the dangers of the frontier, she was holding herself together remarkably well. “Please, Rieren. I will not keep you long.”

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

Rieren sat down. “Are you worried about the fallout?”

“Of course.” The tiredness vanished. Avathene’s eyes were now alert and afire with a powerful light. “A dead former Clanmaster. In my estate. With clear evidence that he was murdered. This will need to be handled delicately. In fact, do you think you can walk around freely after what has happened?”

“Of course not. This is why I intend to find Silomene before my movement becomes restricted by those who would wish to retaliate.”

Rieren understood. Word about what had happened would get out, one way or another. Yonvig’s version of events would make its way to his and his fellow former Clanmaster’s followers, and they would come seeking revenge against Rieren. She would be in decent trouble when that happened, if she wasn’t prepared.

“If he had any shred of dignity, he would take the blame himself,” Gorint Malloh said with no small amount of viciousness. Rieren smiled. He didn’t support that notion out of kindness for her. He just wanted Yonvig to suffer.

“But that is not going to happen,” the Clanmistress said. “We must be realistic. Someone must be held accountable, and our options are limited.”

That was a troubling notion. Avathene didn’t look like she intended to thrust the blame upon Rieren’s shoulders, but if she agreed that the accusation did need to fall on someone, then they would have to find such a person soon.

“I thought we were about to discuss the vacuum of power,” she said.

“That…” Another temple rub from the Clanmistress. She really did look like she needed a good, long rest. “The Ordorian clan is leaderless. Merolk is off fighting, and while I have every faith that he will return, in the case that he does not, there is no one to take the reins.”

That she was considering the outcome of her own husband’s death with such chilling rationale said a lot about her. Rieren could appreciate it, though. Difficult as some things might be to contemplate, considering how hard they would hit emotionally, it would be unwise to not think of them altogether because of sentiment.

What was worse was that Avathene was correct. With Merolk gone, Mercion no longer available unless he reappeared in good health, and Mavolen dead entirely, there was no one who could pick up the mantle of the head of the Ordorian clan. Avathene could act as the interim Clanmistress while her husband was away, but it would only last so long.

Having a Stannerig as the true leader of their clan would only bolster those in the Ordorian ranks who had opposed the union. No one in any Archnoble clan would take well to being overtly controlled by another clan.

“It is a good thing that your father is still alive,” Gorint Malloh said.

“Are you suggesting I might have to give up my position as Clanmistress of the Stannerig to be a mother to all the lonely boys in the Ordorian clan?” Avathene asked.

Malloh didn’t even crack a smile at the phrasing. “I would not put it that way, but it might be our best solution. To ensure the harmony of those within the Shatterlands, we must do what is necessary.” He grimaced again. “I should have convinced myself of that sooner.”

“Stop blaming yourself, Gorint. What has happened is in the past. We only have the future to look froward to. And I agree with you. If that is what must be done, then that is what I will do.”

“We will need to discuss matters with the rest of the clan.”

“I do not see how I can assist with your struggles for power,” Rieren said. “If you intend to turn me into a scapegoat, then I will suggest you wait until the Aetherians have landed upon Falstrom.”

Gorint Malloh froze. “What?”

“Argh.” Avathene didn’t even bother removing her hand from her forehead, clearly not appreciating having to deal with more monsters on top of everything she was going through. “What have you discovered, Rieren?”

Rieren explained her last vision when she had been trying to ascend to the Peak-Enlightened realm. The Aether, how it was connected to the Mortal Realm, how the beings who inhabited it were slowly but surely making their way to the human world en masse. It wouldn’t be long before they arrived.

“Something tells me it will coincide with the arrival of the Dreadflood,” Rieren said.

Malloh shook his head. “They learned from the last timeline. They know we’ve prepared to ensure the same thing doesn’t happen again, so they intend to spring a surprise.”

“It is happening all over the Elderlands. With people all the wiser now that they have memories of the past, everyone who took any sort of action now needs to perform in a vastly different manner so that they aren’t counteracted so easily. This is why the Avatars are roaming your lands, why the monsters are acting up so much.”

Malloh had stiffened again. Rieren turned to face him, but the Clanmistress spoke first.

“How do we stop them?” she asked.

“I am not certain,” Rieren said. “I am trying to discover the exact means through which they will arrive. Once I have determined it, I can take more direct action against it. All I can tell you is that it is a mass exodus so we must be prepared for an overwhelming force standing against us.”

“Yes, but what can we do?”

“Stay prepared in case they arrive with their regular meteoric method. That is the best option we have.”

Avathene didn’t look satisfied with that, but she didn’t argue. She understood the lack of more information was keeping them stymied. As such, it was imperative that Rieren continued her cultivation and her investigation.

“Are we done here?” Rieren asked.

“We still need someone to take responsibility,” Gorint Malloh said.

The tension in the room soared. Rieren’s muscles were on the verge of acting on their own at his inflammatory words. She turned around to face him fully. “Why not take the responsibility yourself?”

“Because I am the string that is desperately tying these lands together.” Despite his grandiose statement, he didn’t sound proud. If anything, his inflection was morose, regretful. “I have no wish to be sacrificed for the argument of cultivators. I still have a great duty I must perform.”

Avathene sighed. “No one needs to be sacrificed. My father… he was confused.”

This time, Rieren turned to the Clanmistress, slightly aghast. “Confused enough to let his own daughter be killed?”

“For the good of the Shatterlands, one may be convinced to do many a horrid thing.”

This time, it was Malloh’s turn to be aghast. “The good of the Shatterlands?”

“Yes. Despite our ousting of the former Clanmasters—and let us face it, the way we took power was more or less a coup—we have not achieved a great deal.”

“Please, Clanmistress. You have gained much.”

She held up a hand against his argument. Not praise. Malloh wasn’t one to throw out vacant platitudes for anyone’s benefit. He truly believed in it.

“I—well, we—have failed to re-establish a proper relationship with the imperial court. We have failed to keep the monsters away from Falstrom or recover the ground they have taken over. We have even failed to instill proper harmony between our two clans.” She smiled, if still sadly. “The only ones whom this marriage truly helped was me and dear Merolk.”

Despite herself, Rieren’s heart twisted. It sounded like much the same thing she had felt about the Sect. Despite her turning back time and trying to make things go differently, to go better than before, the Sect had still ended up destroyed. They may have recovered to an extent, but it had come at a great cost.

Rieren had still been forced to leave. She might have had to do so eventually anyway, but the fact that the destructive attention her presence was constantly bringing had played a great factor in her decision to depart tasted bitter.

“Then what is your intention, Clanmistress?” Gorint Malloh asked, sounding a smidge fearful.

Avathene stood up, smiling at Rieren with true kindness. “Rieren, I am grateful for all you have done. I will instruct my clan members to be prepared, but I leave the rest of countering the Aetherians up to you.”

“Clanmistress?” Malloh insisted.

She swept past him without looking back, opening the door to head outside. “If the clans seek someone to take the fall for tonight’s debacle, then they will have to make do with me.”