Chapter 491: Homecoming |
ARTHUR LEYWIN
As I watched Tessia walk away from me, my fingers went automatically to my lips, where I could still feel her kiss lingering. Her words played over and over in my mind: “I’ll cherish that moment forever, but I won’t cling to it at the expense of the wo3rld’s future.” It was exactly as I’d feared: too much had happened for us to simply pick back up where we’d left off.
“The world’s future.” I clenched and unclenched my fist. It always came down to that, didn’t it? Putting the world first. Had there ever been room for me to be happy? Somehow, I knew that wasn’t what Fate had intended for me.
Memories of my time in the final keystone came back, spilling into my cracking emotions like the incoming tide. I’d seen versions of my life where I had love, and where it was taken away from me, every single time. Every decision, every bit of unusual luck, every coincidence had pushed me inexorably toward my meeting with Fate, and its aspect cared only for one thing. Any part of my life where I had found some semblance of love or companionship had only been a stepping stone in the path Fate laid before me.
My eyes closed as the weight of that expectation grew heavy beyond even my ability to support it. Is there really no room for anything else?
Comfort radiated outward from my core, and I felt my burden ease as Regis and Sylvie both moved in to take on some of the load.
‘She’s doing what she thinks you need,’ Sylvie sent, her thoughts bobbing along in the floodwater of my memories like silver lights beneath the surface. ‘She still cares about you, Arthur. So much that she’d sacrifice the one thing she wants from you: you yourself.’
“I know what you’re feeling, obviously, but…take it for what it really is,” Regis added softly as he manifested from my core to appear next to me. “If everything she said wasn’t a big old profession of her unyielding love, then I’m a guppy.”
Tessia was nearly to the base of the tree. Virion was walking beside her, but he kept shooting furtive glances back over his shoulder at me.
I couldn’t afford to be selfish. The entire world couldn’t afford for me to be selfish, as Tessia had suggested. Every decision I make could send out ripples that would topple continents or end timelines. I’d seen it over and over again inside the keystone.
And so, my conscious mind a network of interconnected lightning bolts of thought, I examined every failed opportunity I had seen in the keystone, every moment of connection with Tessia throughout my life, every indication I had about what potential future might lie ahead for both of us. Regis and Sylvie pulled away, withdrawing their buttressing support as they shielded their minds from the cascade of information. The crown atop my head grew brighter as my brain thrummed with aether-driven introspection.
I couldn’t afford to be selfish. But I couldn’t afford to be hopeless.
Connection. Care. Hope. Love.
Grey had lacked these things. I, as Arthur, had made them my strength and the purpose for my reincarnation. Perhaps Agrona had something different in mind for me. Fate did too. Outside forces had been responsible for my rebirth, but that didn’t mean they could dictate what I did with my new life as they had for Cecilia.
Hadn’t I made Fate itself change its mind?
Aether branched out from King’s Gambit into Realmheart and God Step, and I was pulled almost without effort or thought into the aetheric pathways.
I appeared in the air before Tessia and Virion. Light from my body painted their upturned faces pink. Virion bit his lip and took several steps back, his gaze falling to his feet.
Slowly, I floated down until I was hovering only a few inches off the ground. There, I gestured at my own body. “This is what I am now, Tess. What I am may define my future more than who I am or who I want to be.”
I released the godrunes and settled back onto the ground. The light dimmed as the crown and runes faded away. “I’ve changed in ways that I can’t describe with words, and so have you. The people who stood above the Wall and promised to have a future together are gone, and so is the promise they made.”
I paused, reaching out to take her hand, unsure if she’d reciprocate. When her fingers closed gently around mine, I continued. “The future is uncertain, and any promise now would be a lie. But the past we’ve shared is set in stone, and nothing can take it away from us. I love you, Tessia, and nothing will ever change that. I don’t need a promise to hold me to that.”
Tessia did not weep or go weak in the knees. She didn’t throw herself at me and plead her love. Her grip tightened around my hand, and she pulled me toward her, gently but firmly. Our arms wrapped around each other. Her head rested against my chest. I felt how our breath and our heartbeats fell into rhythm. Mana stirred within her core, and aether within mine. The two forces pushed and pulled at one another, just as they did in the atmosphere.
“You’re lying,” she said softly into the cloth of my shirt.
I pressed my trembling smile to her gunmetal hair. “I’m not.”
Tessia and I stood together like that for quite some time before she pulled back just enough to look up at me. “You let me build myself up for this grand gesture for the last two weeks for nothing, you know.”
I let out an embarrassed chuckle, then looked at her more seriously. “Everything has just gotten so…big. I can’t promise you much of a love story…”
“No, maybe not.” Her understanding smile cut me to my core. “But if our feelings for each other can survive everything we’ve been through, what else could fate throw at us?”
I didn’t answer right away. I wanted to explain everything about Fate and the aether realm right then and there, but even thinking about it was daunting.
Her expression faltered. “We take what comes. We’ll have to learn about each other all over again. It may still come to the point where we just don’t…work. I meant what I said about not clinging to the past.”
I caressed her cheek. “I’m going to have to go back to Epheotus in a couple of days.”
“And I’ll be staying here, at least for now,” she answered, her eyes darting to Virion. She didn’t need to explain more than that. She needed time with her family, her people.
I wanted to stay there with her, to linger in the afterglow of our reconnection. It was difficult to conceive of the fact that, only minutes earlier, it seemed as if our stumbling relationship was truly coming to an end. But there was no time.
She read the thought on my face. “Your family is waiting for you. Go. Be the hero Dicathen needs.”
Running my fingers through her hair, I pulled her gently toward me. This time when our lips touched, it wasn’t stained by a goodbye.
The following farewell was short and bittersweet. We embraced and promised not to wait too long before speaking again. When we finally released each other, Virion stepped in, his own arms stretched out wide. I laughed, and the somberness of the moment eased. “About time, brat,” he mumbled into my ear as we hugged.
My steps were light as I left the grove behind, turning only once to wave to Tessia and Virion, who stood at the base of the tree and waved back. Tessia’s eyes were dry, but a single tear dripped down Virion’s cheek.
I found Mom, Ellie, Boo, Regis, and Sylvie waiting for me just outside, joking half-heartedly about the long climb back down the stairs after such a short stay.
Ellie, a small frown playing across her face, regarded me curiously. “Everything okay?”
I suppressed a goofy grin as the butterflies of this renewal fluttered in my stomach. “Of course. She’s in good hands. Come on, we have quite a few people to talk to.”
‘I told you so,’ Regis thought. ‘Grand gestures. Nice touch with the whole godrune, archon-form thing. It was just the right amount of dramatic.’
Sylvie gave him a nudge with her hip. ‘Don’t tease. This has been an emotional breakthrough for him. Although, if I can offer a bit of constructive criticism, you could have conjured the armor too, since you’re going for the whole knight-in-shining-armor trope.’
I burst out with a surprised laugh, prompting Ellie to complain that we were all talking in our heads again.
As we descended back toward Lodenhold, however, I tried to turn my thoughts to everything else that needed done while I was in Dicathen. It was incredibly difficult to take my mind off Tessia, and after a few minutes, I admitted defeat and channeled a lesser charge to King’s Gambit, splitting my consciousness into multiple branches and giving me space to focus.
My first priority, and the closest, was to deliver news of everything that had happened to the dwarven clan lords.
We found Lodenhold abuzz with activity. I sent word with a runner that I wanted to see the council as soon as possible. While we waited, guards, clerks, and members of the various guilds came and went at a frenzied pace. My appearance was no less noticed within the palace than it had been after our arrival, but the dedicated folk there did not stop in their duties to speak with us.
We were still standing there when a familiar face unexpectedly passed by.
“Caera!”
She jerked to a halt, startled. “A-Arthur,” she said after a moment, stumbling over my name. “You’re back. You’re alive.” Waiting for a group of guildsmen to pass by, she hurried over to us. Ellie grabbed her hand and squeezed, and Mom patted her on the shoulder. “We’ve been worried sick. Even Seris, although she tries not to show it,” she said.
“What’s going on?” I asked, focusing on a bundle of scrolls in her arms.
She quickly explained, connecting the dots with what the dwarves had been shouting earlier.
‘No wonder they’re upset,’ Sylvie thought. ‘It’s the right thing to do, but that’s not an easy sell to a wounded and angry populace.’
Ellie had listened raptly. “How are Seth and Mayla? And their friends? We kind of got kidnapped right after the battle.”
Caera’s brows rose.
“Not really,” Ellie quickly clarified, “but kind of.”
“They seem to be holding up fine,” Caera said slowly. “I’m sure they’d be glad to see you before they return to Alacrya. They’re still closed up in the prison, but the guards might let you in if you throw your brother’s name around.”
Ellie looked at me for permission. I looked at Mom, who rolled her eyes and nodded. Smiling at us happily, Ellie hurried off to go visit her friends, Boo trundling protectively after her. She only remembered to turn and say goodbye to Caera when she was almost to the huge palace doors.
As we were watching her go, the dwarven runner I’d spoken to earlier returned. “Lance Arthur, the lords will be with you shortly. I can take you to—”
“I’ll be speaking to them on his behalf,” Sylvie said, sensing my desire to finish my conversation with Caera.
The dwarf looked unsure, but when Sylvie marched past him toward the corridor that led to the Hall of Lords, he had no choice but to scramble after.
My mother touched my elbow lightly. “Actually, Art, all this marching all over Vildorial has left me a bit tired. I’d like to go check in at home, if that’s okay?”
“Of course,” I said, looking over her with worry. She was a little peaky, and there were dark circles forming under her eyes and a drag to her movements. It was as much mental as physical, but nothing that some rest and a return to normal wouldn’t cure.
If things ever return to normal, I thought.
We shared a quick side hug, and she followed in Ellie’s footsteps out of the palace.
I reordered my thoughts with one branch of King’s Gambit as I turned my attention back to Caera. Despite the fact that it was incredibly busy in Lodenhold, the crowd was loud and bustling enough that we could easily speak in confidence. “Thank you, by the way. Ellie told me about the battle. You—”
“Don’t thank me,” she said, an edge to her voice. “It was exactly as you feared. You were right to distrust me.”
Her sentiment surprised me. Even with King’s Gambit partially powered, the threads of my thoughts had been so focused that I hadn’t noticed Caera’s agitation. Now, I looked closer.
She stood stiffly, and her eyes regularly jumped to the nearby dwarves, scanning their faces and hands warily. When she wasn’t speaking, her jaw was clenched tight. Her gaze returned to me every couple of seconds, and when she looked at me, her lips twitched in a suppressed frown.
Regis manifested out of me in a flash of amethyst fire. Some of the closest dwarves startled, but Caera gave him a fond smile.
“What are you even talking about?” he said in his rough way. “You didn’t succumb to Agrona’s will, you didn’t attack any Dicathians. Right? When that whole fate-shockwave-thing happened, we didn’t even sense you get smacked like the rest of the Alacryans. You’re separate from him.” He shot me a look that was almost a glare. “Listen, Art was neck-deep in King’s Gambit when he was planning all that stuff, and what he said about you—”
She chuckled bitterly. “I’d still have died if not for Ellie. My own runes were going to rip me apart. And then, just minutes later, my blood, who had done their damndest to escape Agrona’s control, arrived to hunt for you, Arthur, fighting and killing your people because Agrona made them. So no, Regis. Arthur was right.”
The self-deprecation of her tone conjured a guilt that clawed at my insides, even through the thin veil of King’s Gambit. Caera and I had faced a lot together. I regretted that my words had broken her down, making her doubt herself now. “Agrona is defeated. He can’t control, threaten, or hurt your people again. I’m glad Seris was able to make Sapin’s and Darv’s leaders see sense. But you didn’t mention…are you going to stay or return to Alacrya with your people?”
She looked searchingly into my eyes, but I wasn’t sure exactly what she hoped to find there. After a long pause, she swallowed and looked away. “My blood has been shattered. My brother’s dead. Corbett and Lenora are…” She gave a small shrug. “I’m needed in Alacrya.”
“I understand.” I considered what to say very carefully. I could tell that part of her agitation was related specifically to me, but I didn’t think it was regarding the false trails I had set for Agrona’s soldiers. No, this seemed more personal, more…like she was surrendering something. “And…Caera?”
Her eyes returned to mine. There was a hopeful bent to her guarded expression.
“I am sorry,” I said.
Her brows knit together, and she seemed to shrink in on herself slightly. “Don’t be.” Swallowing heavily, she shuffled the scrolls in her arms and cast about for something else to say. “Did you—the Legacy. Tessia Eralith. Is she…?”
I nodded and gestured upwards. “With Virion now.”
“Good.” Despite this response, her body was suddenly tense as she straightened again. “That’s good. I’m happy for you, Arthur. Really.” Her focus fell to the scrolls in her arms. “I’m sorry, but I really do need to go. There’s…a lot to do.”
She rearranged the scrolls so she could rub Regis’s head and give him a quick scratch behind the ear. Then, catching me off guard, she leaned against me and pulled me into a hug. We lingered there, like that, lost in the crowd. There was a catharsis to the contact, but not mine. It felt like goodbye.
When she finally released me, she straightened her scrolls, opened her mouth as if to speak, gave me an uncertain smile, and turned away.
‘What was that?’ Regis thought, looking up at me.
“What?” I asked absentmindedly, my thoughts muddy. I’d inadvertently released King’s Gambit, I realized.
“That was like six hippopotamuses.”
I blinked down at him. “Hippo—what?”
He rolled his bright eyes as if I were being inordinately stupid. “Listen, princess. The standard hug is three hippopotamuses tops. Six is borderline scandalous.”
I didn’t reply to Regis, only stood and watched until she had left the hall.
It might have only been seconds or maybe several long minutes before I moved again, blinking back the sluggish aftereffects of channeling King’s Gambit. I turned my head, looking for the source of a strong mana signature that had caught my attention enough to pull me from the fugue. I didn’t recognize the shouts of dismay until I saw the huge hammer swinging at my face.
Raising my arms, I blocked the blow with crossed forearms. The force of it sent me sliding backwards across the glossy tiles of the floor, my heels gouging shallow trenches through them.
Snarling and flaring with angry purple flames, Regis gathered himself to spring.
Stop, I ordered him, staring at Mica.
‘What’s wrong?’ Sylvie sent from where she was meeting with Lord Silvershale, two of his sons, and a couple of other lords. ‘I can—’
I’m fine, I answered, not wanting her to become distracted. Her conversation was just as important as the one I was about to have.
Mica was floating off the ground so our eyes were level. She was puffing angrily, her cheeks apple red. “Liar!” she shouted, brandishing her massive hammer. Her knuckles were white around the haft. “Do you even know what you did? Varay almost died! Your own sister almost died! Mica was at the wall and watched a hundred adventurers defend your lie with their lives.”
She flew forward a foot, her hammer coming up as if she was going to strike again, but she held herself in check. “We were your friends, Arthur. You could have told us. We could have helped. So why?”
I let out a shaking breath, sagging. I’d known this was a possibility, but… “There was no choice, Mica. Agrona’s been ahead of us the whole time, well before the war even started. Everything comes down to the aspect of Fate. Everything. I didn’t know how much time I’d need, or how Agrona would respond, but I knew I needed to succeed.”
“And so you created secret plans and convinced people to protect nothing at the cost of their lives! Small price to pay when you’re the chosen one with the weight of worlds on your shoulders, I suppose?” Her good eye shone furiously. “Maybe ask the Twin Horns how they feel about that.”
A bitter worry settled into my guts. The hall was silent now, and still. The many dwarves who’d been passing through stood frozen in place, watching raptly, a collage of emotions from terror to bloodthirsty excitement on display across their faces.
“Those who fought against Agrona—who died fighting—did so to protect their homes and families, and they succeeded.” Despite my fear for the Twin Horns, I kept both my voice and my expression firm. My gaze swept across the onlookers, making eye contact with many of them. “Don’t cheapen their sacrifice by suggesting it was for nothing.”
She let out an expansive breath and seemed to deflate. The hammer in her hands fell apart into sand, which in turn seeped down into the cracks in the floor I’d made. “I expected better of you, Arthur.” She lifted off the ground and, without looking at me, flew out of the palace, leaving a gust of wind in her wake.
I opened my mouth to call her back, but thought better of it. Instead, I quickly considered everyone who I’d worked with in preparing for the fourth keystone and who might know more of what had happened outside of Vildorial during Agrona’s attack. If Mica knew something more, it was likely that her father or the other dwarven lords did as well, but I didn’t want to intrude on Sylvie’s meeting, which she had well in hand.
Instead, I brought Regis back into my core and then flew out of Lodenhold after Mica. Instead of following the highway, I went over the edge, flying straight down to the Earthborn Institute. The dwarves there shouted out an alarm as I flew over the wall and straight to the open doors, but I didn’t bother waiting for them to identify me. Instead, I headed straight for the simple chambers my mother and sister had been allowed to live in.
The front door was closed, but not locked, and I let myself in.
Mother was sitting on the couch, a letter held loosely in her hands. Tears rolled freely down her pale face.
My heart sank, and I hurried to her side. Wordlessly, she held up the letter.
I scanned it quickly, then read it a second time more slowly, making sure I understood its contents. “Angela Rose,” I said hollowly.
‘No…’ Regis sank deeper into my core, his grief seeping through our connection and amplifying my own.
Mom rested a hand on my forearm, but she didn’t look at me.
The letter went into some detail regarding the attack and its results. Angela died defending the chamber where I’d told them I’d be hiding. I’d known Cecilia would be able to sense my signature, that Agrona’s forces would be drawn to those locations. This had always been a possibility.
“You tell your mom we’re going to take good care of you, all right?”
Those had been her last words to me. Had I told her? I thought back but struggled to remember everything from the weeks of preparation. I’d had King’s Gambit active nearly all the time then, with my mind racing in a dozen directions all at once. It made the memories…muddy and difficult to parse. I must have, I thought. It wasn’t the kind of detail I’d have missed at that moment.
The letter contained more than just this news, though. “Durden is retiring.” I couldn’t find this surprising, nor what else the letter said. Adam, my father, Angela Rose…
Half of the adventuring party had given their lives to the fight against Agrona.
“The Twin Horns are disbanding,” Mom said. She leaned back and stared up at the ceiling. “I thought the name, at least, would live on forever. Or at least…oh, I don’t even know what I’m trying to say. As long as there is a Helen Shard, I thought there’d be the Twin Horns.”
The tone of the letter was disciplined, factual. Written by Helen herself, it avoided casting blame, and Helen even asked about me. “Have you heard from Arthur? Jasmine and I hope beyond hope that, wherever he was, he accomplished what he set out to do. I’m certain he had a good reason for making us believe his life was in our hands.” Reading between the lines, in the strokes of the quill and the cool detachment of the language, I saw her pain. Not just at the loss of Angela, which must have still been raw when this letter was written, but at the reason for her death.
“I’m not going to tell you not to blame yourself,” Mom said, finally turning to regard me. She reached for the letter, which she sat on the table, and then took my hands. “Knowing you, I’m sure you already are, but I also know that this is something you accounted for. So…” She had to swallow down the emotion forming a lump in her throat. “So you can blame yourself, but not forever. Because the more you wallow in that blame, the longer you make Angela's life and mission about yourself and not her. You should remember who she was and what she did. Don’t simplify her life down to just her death. Keep doing what you need to, Arthur, but…you, more than anyone else, also need to look at the big picture.”
“I don’t blame myself, Mom. I accept responsibility for what has happened. There’s a difference.”
She pulled me to her, so my head rested on her shoulder. Her tears had dried, and we existed in a shared, mournful fatigue. I let myself be transported back in time to when I was only a toddler.
Had that been the last time she held me like this? Real memories blended with the false ones from the keystone, and I found myself second-guessing my own thoughts.
“I should visit Helen in Blackbend,” she said after a while. “The letter didn’t mention anything about a service. I don’t know what I can do, but…”
“Go,” I said, softly encouraging. “Take some time. Windsom won’t be back for us until the day after tomorrow.”
We settled into mournful silence.
‘I’m sorry about Angela, Arthur,’ Sylvie thought, her tone suggesting that she had been waiting to speak without interrupting me. ‘The dwarves…struggled to accept that the war is really over, despite their agreement to release the Alacryans. They still want to speak to you, and they’d like you to be present when the prisoners are sent home tomorrow.’
Tomorrow? I thought back, remembering the bustle around Lodenhold. I should have put it together myself that it would be happening so soon. Good. Yes, we’ll be there.
My mind trailed back along the tracks of the emotional rollercoaster I had been on since leaving Epheotus—and even before. Tessia’s release of our promise and our attempt to start over, giving ourselves and each other a chance to learn again who we are. Caera’s goodbye. The violent exchange with Mica. The news of Angela Rose.
A homecoming fit for what I had to do.
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