THE BEGINNING AFTER THE END

Chapter 514: Atop Their Bones

ARTHUR LEYWIN

What followed was a mad rush of preparation.

I bid the Glayders farewell before they quickly returned to Etistin to organize and prepare their own troops. Emily Watsken rushed off in order to oversee the set-up and activation of all newly designed long-range teleportation units—the ones modeled after Nico’s design—in order to allow a rapid dissemination of Beast Corps pilots across the continent. Lyra Dreide and Saria Triscan offered to be our messengers to Blackbend, where Helen Shard oversaw the efforts of the Adventurers Guild. From there, the pair would head on to the Wall, and then to the Alacryan refugee villages and elven encampments beyond.

Carnelian Earthborn and Daglun Silvershale were quick to agree that they would send dwarven mages all throughout Sapin, and the rest of the dwarven lords immediately fell in behind them. Although I was surprised by this sudden sense of comradery with the wider world, I was glad to see that even the stubborn dwarven lords saw reason in the face of catastrophe.

Two hours after the first pieces of Epheotus fell, I found myself standing far underground within an observation deck, looking out at the vast laboratory Wren Kain had carved out for the development and testing of the exoforms and their fire salt-imbued weapons. Although I chafed at so many delays, I couldn’t leave until I knew Dicathen was prepared—or as prepared as it could be—to hold off the continuing bombardment of its surface by Epheotus.

Rows upon rows of exoforms, each one unique based on the specific combination of beast components utilized, stood open before me as freshly trained pilots streamed in from Vildorial and beyond. All over the laboratory, cores were spinning up, sending light and mana spilling through exoforms that then shifted, adjusting stances and rolling arm and neck joints in imitation of their pilots as the connection was formed.

Claire Bladeheart and a handful of other ranking pilots were directing the soldiers, who maneuvered their machines into formation as each one finished its initialization.

“They may not be as powerful or versatile as the strongest mages out there,” Gideon said, “but absent official channels of leadership, I can maneuver them around where they need to be more quickly than begging soldiers from Darv or Sapin. Good that you’re taking a few with you, though. You’ll finally get to see them in action.” He looked me over seriously, and his surprisingly intact brows rose. “You know, Arthur, I’ve been rethinking the designs on some of those ranged weapons—”

“Tell him, Gid. I still think it’s a gross failure of Arthur’s creativity that I wasn’t given a couple of bazookas attached to my sides,” Regis cut in.

“Ba…zookas?” Gideon asked, frowning curiously. “A strong name for a projectile-based system, perhaps one that—”

I waved a hand as if brushing their words out of the air. “We’ve been over this. It’s not a road you want to go down.”

A few minutes later, Claire and the other nine exoform pilots who would be accompanying me—ten of the best Gideon had—were ready to go. It was a long walk through the tunnels back up into Vildorial.

“I’ll admit, Arthur, I’m still a little fuzzy on what we’re doing here,” Claire said, falling in beside me as I hurried along. Her exoform towered over me, and its clawed feet left bright scratches in the stone floor with each step. “With three Lances, a Scythe, a couple of white core level mages—I mean, you have two asura going with you. What do you think ten non-mages”—she winced and quickly adjusted her wording—“ten exoforms are going to add?”

“Didn’t Gideon cover this with you?” I asked, surprised.

She gave an uncertain shrug and the exoform copied her, a movement that almost would have been amusing if the machine itself wasn’t so strange to look at. “Master Bastius is…not always exactly clear in his communication.”

I chuckled. “Fair enough.” Before I answered her question, however, I paused to choose my words carefully. “I don’t expect you to fight Wraiths or Vritra. Your weapons are highly proficient at bypassing shields, which the Alacryan mages rely on entirely for their defense. If there is a battle, you represent an unknown for the Alacryans. Except for maybe anyone who was also at the last battle of Vildorial, no one there will know what you are or how best to counter you.

“But also, Claire, you—the Beast Corps, these exoforms—represent an important path to empowerment for all those without mana in both Dicathen and Alacrya. I’m not doing you or these others a favor, I’m putting you into danger, and I want you to keep that in mind, but…I wanted the Beast Corps to have a place here.”

Claire was silent for some time as we strode on, the line moving at a quick pace. Just as I thought our conversation was over, she spoke again. “Thank you, Arthur, for this.” Within the exoform, she gestured down to its mesh of beast parts, mechanics, and magic. “Don’t mistake my question. I’m glad to be going to Taegrin Caelum—for the chance to fight back against those who attacked us in Xyrus all those years ago.”

I couldn’t bring myself to smile, but I did incline my head slightly in acknowledgement. “Your squad will be the vanguard if we face opposition outside of the fortress, under the command of Seris. I will attempt to breach whatever barriers have been put in place, and then the Lances, my companions, and I will take the fight directly to Agrona inside Taegrin Caelum.”

When we reached Vildorial, we found our path forward blocked by a dense crowd. In the distance, rows upon rows of dwarven soldiers passed through a portal, and the entire population of the city had come out to watch them. It was a somber affair, with little or no ovation for these soldiers.

I considered searching for another path forward, but Claire stepped forward. The crowd separated by necessity, pressing back into one another until there was room for the hulking machine to pass through. Once at the front, she began to clap, her metallic hands crashing together like a hammer against an anvil.

For a moment, those around her were startled. Then, though, the air began to change. Smiles appeared on dour faces, slow but inexorable. A scattering of applause joined her, and then the audience erupted into a full-blown roaring cheer. The rest of the exoform pilots joined in, but their applause could not ring louder than the cacophonous roar of the crowd.

Pulling up my hood to hide my features, I wove through the crowd to Claire’s side, clapping for the dwarves alongside everyone else. “Well done,” I said.

“They’re soldiers, and they’re going into incredible danger to people who’ve offered them little respect—who not so long ago, they considered enemies.” Through the transparent mana shielding, I could just see the woman within, her gaze forward, fiercely on the dwarves as she spoke. “For some, this will be the last time they see their home. They shouldn’t leave it in sullen silence.”

We stayed for a few more minutes, watching the dwarves march through the portal in twos and threes. When I could stand idle no longer, I knocked on the exoform’s hip to get Claire’s attention, then began up the crowded, curving highway, the line of exoforms following me. I could already feel the mana signatures of my companions in the distance, near the top of the cavern at Lodenhold.

The highway in front of the palace had been cleared, and only a handful of guards remained. Many of the dwarven lords, who were almost all mages, were accompanying their soldiers to Sapin. This had been Daymor Silvershale’s idea. The young dwarf had argued that he hadn’t received a spellform just to hide within the ground while death rained down on the surface, and had then been one of the first through the portal.

“Is everything ready?” I asked as I reached the others, looking around at the group who would be accompanying me to Alacrya: Varay, Bairon, Mica, Tessia, Chul, and Sylvie. Seris and Cylrit were missing, likely still dealing with the portal.

“We were just waiting for you and your exoforms,” Varay answered.

Virion, who stood with Tessia, grunted. “We’re already starting to get messages back, and the first few dozen refugees have arrived.” He looked over the edge of the highway down to where a cluster of frightened-looking humans were being led from the tunnel connecting to the replaced teleportation gate. “Our efforts are proving effective. I’m…” He hesitated, his gruff voice suddenly harsh with emotion. He cleared his throat. “I’ll be heading to Elenoir immediately. The few groves that have already started to take root there—we don’t want to lose them.”

I gave him an understanding half-smile. “Protect your home, your people. Don’t give an inch.”

He coughed and wiped a hint of moisture from his eyes, then pulled me into a hug, smacking my back forcefully. “You take care of my granddaughter, brat.”

“Of course, gramps.” I returned the gesture more tenderly. “Grandpa! I’m right here,” Tessia said teasingly.

Faster than expected, his hand snapped out, grabbed her by the wrist, and pulled her into a group hug with us, laughing. Soon Tessia and I were laughing along with him.

“Adorable,” Mica said nearby, rolling her eyes but unable to suppress a smirk.

Sharp steps drew my attention to Lodenhold’s main entrance, which loomed above us. Seris was striding in our direction, Cylrit at her side and Emily hurrying behind them.

Virion cleared his throat and pushed his way free of the hug he’d initiated. “Well? The sky is falling, brat. This is no time to just stand around.”

“The portal is calibrated,” Seris said without preamble. “I’m aware of a receiving platform north of Cargidan, inside the Basilisk Fang Mountains. It’s occasionally used to move larger numbers of soldiers to and from Taegrin Caelum for training operations. We won’t be able to teleport directly to the fortress, but this will get us as close as possible. I’ve already sent a message to Caera for our soldiers to begin tempus warping there to meet us.”

Emily fiddled with her glasses as she regarded us nervously. “Not to rush you, Regent, but Gideon would like this portal for transportation of the other exoforms once you’ve left.”

“We should go immediately,” Cylrit added. “We’ve already lost precious hours.”

Varay gave me a fierce look, nodded, and led the way, followed by Mica, Cylrit, and Seris. Sylvie squeezed Virion’s hand, gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, then motioned for Chul, and the pair of them trailed after the others.

Bairon stood tall but stiff in front of Virion. “Sir, it has been an honor. Thank you for the opportunity to support you as your Lance.”

Virion, already red-eyed, scratched at his stubble and glanced away, but only for a second. When he looked back, his gaze glinted with the steel of a man who had been king, who had led the entire continent in a war at unwinnable odds. “And thank you for your support, Bairon Wykes, Lance of Dicathen.” He strongly emphasized the last word.

Bairon saluted his commander, spun on his heels, then marched toward Lodenhold. I gestured to Claire, and she led the exoform pilots after Bairon.

Tessia started to walk away, stopped, and ran to Virion, kissing him on the other cheek from Sylvie. “You be safe, okay?”

I tapped two fingers to my temple in a sort of casual salute, then Tessia and I followed the others.

“Art, before we go…” Tessia began haltingly. She produced something from her pocket and held it out: the dark, multifaceted stone I had used to see my mother and sister from afar.

“Oh, hey, the Creeper’s Stone,” Regis said. “Looks broken again,” he added, drawing my attention to cracks running through it.

I took it and turned it over in my hand, inspecting the fractures.

“I found it at your mom’s place,” she said. “Ellie told me it had been broken.”

“To save it from Windsom,” I confirmed, recalling Ellie mentioning it in the weeks we stayed in Epheotus after “Agrona’s” defeat. Aether bloomed from me, spilling down my arms in individual, bright motes as Aroa’s Requiem activated. The motes danced across the relic’s surface, fusing the cracks.

I resisted the urge to check on Ellie and Mom, instead storing the relic in my dimension rune.

“Thanks,” I said, brushing her fingers with mine.

“I figured you’d be worried about them,” she said with a shrug as we stepped into Lodenhold’s outer hall.

The exoform pilots were already striding through, and Seris and Cylrit were gone. The others looked at me, and I nodded. They began to step through one by one. Soon, it was just Emily and me standing in front of the arcane frame emitting the bright, opaque portal.

My thoughts wandered to those first days at Xyrus Academy when I’d met her in Gideon’s class, back when he’d been a professor.

She chuckled and adjusted her glasses. “Who’d have guessed this is where we’d end up?” she asked as if reading my thoughts. Her smile slipped, and her gaze fell to the ground, then snapped back to me. She stepped closer and took my hand in both of her own. “Oh, cripes, but I wish I had something smarter to say than just…well, be careful, Arthur. Come back to us?” She shook her head, and thick hair fell over her face. “This world is going to need you just as much when Agrona is gone.” She laughed again, almost a sob. “There’s still the world of the gods crashing into us to deal with.”

As her face fell, her glasses slipped down her nose. I pushed them back into place with a chuckle. “With minds like yours in it, Miss Watsken? This world is going to be just fine, I promise.”

Tears filled her eyes, and I turned away before they started to fall, and strode into the portal.

I felt myself rushing across the world. Like the portals left behind by the djinn, this new design wasn’t quite instant, but there was none of the discomfort. I experienced a blue flash, then the vaguest impression of rushing landscape, and then I was stepping out of a hovering portal over a wide, rune-etched circle.

The air was much colder here, and I experienced a brief moment of vertigo as the enclosed hall of Lodenhold became climbing, jagged mountains all around and, above them, the open wound. A piece of land broke away, falling in a fiery ball far to the west somewhere.

An expansive but utilitarian encampment spread out around us. Alacryan mages of all descriptions were coming out of buildings, hurrying up the primary road, and gathering around Seris. Some eyed the rest of us warily while others curiously began to walk circles around the exoforms, exclaiming in wonder at what must have been, to them, a very strange sight.

In all, there seemed to be three, perhaps four hundred mages.

“Free Alacryans,” Seris said, her voice echoing effortlessly around the encampment. “The time has come to assail Agrona’s fortress, the heart of his power in Alacrya. Each of you has worked tirelessly since before the fall of Sovereign Orlaeth Vritra to secure a future for Alacrya free of the Vritra clan’s authoritarian regime. Now, together, we will fulfill the promise we made ourselves when this revolution began.”

There were some cheers in response, and Seris continued speaking, but my attention turned to one specific figure among the hundreds.

Caera bypassed the crowd gathering around Seris and moved straight for the rest of us. Her brows knit tonight as she looked at me, but someone bumped me aside, and Chul hurried to her, wrapped her in a crushing hug, and lifted her off the ground.

“Lady Caera!” he said with a laugh, shaking her like a child with a stuffed bear. “It is excellent to see you, and I find myself very glad to fight alongside you again, even if you must feel quite awkward to be in the presence of my brother Arthur and his lady love, this fair elven princess here.”

Everyone within earshot froze. Regis, halfway manifested out of my body as he, too, went to greet Caera, sighed, completed his transformation, and then nipped Chul’s hand hard enough to draw blood.

“Agh, you devilish beast, what have you done this for?” Chul grumbled, immediately distracted as he lunged for Regis, who dodged away, flashing in and out of corporeality so that he became impossible for the phoenix to grab.

Rubbing the back of my neck and feeling clad in an aura of pure awkwardness, I approached Caera. “Sorry.”

She crossed her arms beneath her chest and gave me a wry look. “What kind of stories have you been telling him about our time ascending together?”

Tessia walked up and gave me a similar expression. “Ascending together, huh? Is this some kind of Alacryan slang I’m not familiar with?”

I decided that the wisest course of action was to remain very still and silent.

Both women began to laugh as Tessia slipped an arm through Caera’s. “I don’t think I ever saw this side of him,” Caera said, tossing her navy hair. “Ascender Grey, as I knew him, was the most serious, brooding man I ever met. Funny how even here, at the very precipice, looking upon the literal end of the world, you seem better now, Arthur Leywin. More…yourself.”

I cleared my throat. “I learned a lot about who I wanted to be by pretending to be the person I once was.”

From the corner of my eye, I caught Seris motioning to me. “Time to go.” I approached and stood between her and Cylrit as hundreds of Alacryan soldiers looked on.

“I’ve provided all the necessary instruction,” Seris said quietly, “but had hoped you would say a few words as well.”

I nodded and looked out at the small army. “You know who I am. Many of you may have even seen me before. You knew me as Ascender Grey, and now as Arthur Leywin. I am not an Alacryan, but I have spent time among you, trained your students”—a cheer went up from somewhere in the crowd—“fought for your people. We may be from two separate continents, but our lived experience is not so far separated as the lands we were born upon. We have unity of purpose in the elimination of evil that threatens your families—your bloods—just as much as my own. The Vritra clan has offered you nothing but subjugation and brutality, no different than Dicathen. You are all here today because you believe that Alacrya can be a better place.” My voice softened, but the mountain valley was so silent my voice carried easily to everyone regardless. “And you are right. This continent is yours, so long as you’ll fight for it.”

A soldier near the front lines began to slam his spear into his shield rhythmically, and the warrior beside him kept time by hammering the butt of his huge warhammer against the ground. Soon, the entire army was stamping their feet or clashing their weapons.

Cylrit stepped aside and pointed toward the mountain pass with his sword. “To Taegrin Caelum!”

“For Alacrya!” someone shouted in the ranks. The cry was picked up, and the army began to march swiftly down the rough trail.

As I stood by to watch, Chul jogged back to my side. “Must we really move on foot to accommodate these soldiers? A long march through the mountains would be completed in only an hour if we flew ahead.”

“One more necessary delay,” I muttered. “But the last one, I hope.”

Cylrit moved at the front of the ranks, but Seris stepped aside to join me. “Our Sentries confirm the road is clear from here to Taegrin Caelum, but there is a sizable encampment set up just beyond the range of whatever power has been protecting the fortress. We should expect resistance.”

The Lances stood near the receiving platform with the ten exoform pilots. They had watched warily as Seris gathered all these Alacryan mages around herself and listened to our speeches. Now, Varay stepped forward. “Sentries aside, we three will scout ahead throughout the journey, Arthur.”

I nodded, and Varay, Bairon, and Mica all flew into the air and started out ahead of us. Seris fell in beside her ranks, walking with the soldiers who had decided to fight Agrona for her. I gave the order for the exoforms to take up the rear.

“I will watch from above,” Chul grunted, scowling as a small meteor of Epheotan landmass impacted the mountains several miles to the west. He then flew up into the air and hovered a couple hundred feet above the advancing army.

I spent the first part of the journey at the back of the line. Claire and I fell into an easy rhythm of conversation. She’d learned much about the Alacryans’ style of fighting during her training, but there were significant holes in it. Over the next couple of hours, I gave her a crash course in fighting beside and against their battle groups. When we were done, I headed to the front of the line, where Seris, Caera, and Cylrit were leading, and thought I would educate them on the best use of the exoforms.

Seris only quirked one corner of her mouth wryly at me. “What do you think I did during my time in Vildorial, after Agrona’s attack searching for you. I think you will find I know quite as much about your beast machines as you do, Arthur—maybe even more.”

After that, I took to cycling through positions: flying forward to check on the Lances; falling back to help Chul blast any chunks of Epheotus that fell too close to us out of the air; marching with the soldiers, who were eager to hear more about my ascents or to relive my fights at the Victoriad; or to walk with Tessia and Sylvie, going over what Tess could remember from her time in Taegrin Caelum.

We kept up a good pace, but still, it was a long march through difficult terrain. Above us, the wound seemed to grow inch by inch, tearing ever wider. I could only hope that the people of both continents were being protected as best they could be. In all, it took twelve full hours, although the journey would have been twice as long had every soldier among us not been a hardened fighter and mage.

We caught our first glimpse of Taegrin Caelum in the distance two full hours before we reached its outskirts. It was lit by the glow of Epheotus through the wound, which bathed the Basilisk Fang Mountains in golden light as if our own sun hadn’t already set. The silhouette of dark spires and towers clawed their way out of the mountainside and reached up into the bright night sky toward the wound.

It wasn’t until we rounded a sharp bend in the winding path, though, just beneath the fortress, that we saw the loyalist encampment.

Crowded into a narrow ravine along the rough mountain path, several hundred tents and small structures had been erected. Fires dotted the encampment, and thousands of figures milled around within it.

We were moving with our mana signatures—for those that had them—retracted as much as possible, but with so many eyes in the camp, it was only moments before someone saw us. A flare of mana went up, casting flickering red light across the mountainside, and suddenly people were rushing into haphazard formations.

“Continue forward,” Seris ordered, her voice carrying back down the line.

I waved for Chul, Sylvie, the Lances—who had fallen back to the main force as we approached Taegrin Caelum—and the others to stay with the column, and Seris and I flew forward. When we were within a few hundred feet of the forwardmost line of opposition, several shields flickered into existence to bar our path. Seris looked to me.

“People of Alacrya,” I said, projecting my voice outward on an edge of aetheric intent. “Stand down and let us pass. We are proceeding to Taegrin Caelum in order to—”

“Oh, we know why you’re here,” a man’s voice boomed in response.

A tall man with one horn stepped out of the lines of Alacryan mages. He had a beakish nose and unkempt black hair that hid the stump where his second horn used to be. His most distinctive feature, however, was his mismatched eyes, one a muddy brown, the other a bright scarlet that shone even across the distance.

From somewhere behind me, I heard, “Ah, my brother in heterochromia—” followed instantly by, “Not now, guber,” from Regis.

“Wolfrum,” Seris said, her voice cold. “Still you scurry underfoot the Vritra, even as they continue to perish one by one. How unfortunate. You would have been better served by staying loyal to my cause instead of putting your faith in Dragoth. My condolences, of course. I heard the unfortunate news about my compatriot, your leash-holder.”

Wolfrum sneered. “You won’t go any farther, Seris Unblooded. We are prepared to defend our High Sovereign, and we are ten to your one.”

My brows rose. “I can barely sense enough mana from your encampment to conjure these shields in front of you. You’re depleted from the recent pulse. Don’t be stupid. You don’t have to die here for nothing.”

Wolfrum laughed. A few of the loyalist mages joined him, and then a few more, and then suddenly their entire encampment rang with mirth. As if someone had pulled aside a curtain, their mana signatures blazed, each at their full strength.

“The High Sovereign has prepared us for your arrival,” Wolfrun said, his laugh carrying through his words. Then, his face twisted into a snarl. “All loyal Alacryans! Destroy the High Sovereign’s enemies, and be rewarded with incredible power in the world he’ll build atop their bones!”

The shields fell, and hundreds of spells began to pour from the enemy camp.

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